AKLESH (Under Strange Skies) (29 page)

Gar promptly went outside into the cool late-summer-night air to get control of himself.

It took him several minutes of breathing and trying to think of other things, like parliamentary procedure and quantum mathematics. Once he pulled himself together, he went back into the hut.

Gar attempted to blindly navigate the hut while trying to keep his eyes closed as much as possible, almost tripping over the cooking embers and burning his feet in the process.

Eventually, he was able to scramble onto the bed and not wake up Kai.

At least he believed he hadn’t. Kai’s mental state was still calm and at ease. Yet there was no way to be sure since he dared not sneak a peek at his still form laying temptingly on the ground to find out and have the same issue all over again.

Needless to say, he didn’t sleep well.

The next morning, when it was appropriate, Gar politely suggested that Kai wear something to bed and blamed it on his culture’s prudishness. Kai, of course, agreed but Gar thought he saw the hint of a smile on the corners of the young native’s mouth.

After the first night together Seema had noticed that both of them came out of the hut that morning, but chose not to comment. She also wore a bit of a smile as she prepared everyone’s breakfast.

Eventually, as time went by, Gar found his way to working with Hatha.

Soon it became clear that learning the art of wood working was what he should have done first.

The craftsman was more than happy to show Gar how he did carpentry. This fascinated Gar.

It seemed almost funny to be making machines, like carts and yokes, out of wood and by hand. Trees on Orestus were only around for beautification, and many who had been raised there and did not know differently thought them a waste of space. Gar developed a new appreciation for the resource.

After a few weeks of working daily with Hatha, he had picked up much and was soon helping to create tables, chairs and improvising on the various designs. At first Hatha was leery of any change, but as he began to see the finished results, realized the stranger had a natural talent for the work. It was true that Gar lacked the muscle and knowledge of a truly skilled craftsman, but his gift and drive to learn touched the woodcrafter. He came to welcome the unexpected apprentice, knowing those other attributes would come in time.

Another thing that Gar made note of was that whenever he was working with Hatha, Cho was somehow always the one to come fetch them for mealtime or with a message for either of them.

Sometimes, she would come around with no good reason at all.

The interactions between Hatha and the smitten Cho amused Gar to no end. After great effort, he was finally able to explain this to Kai, who was now in on the joke. It was Gar’s secret plan to somehow get the carpenter and Cho together. They both seemed to have a genuine fondness for each other. Indeed, after a visit from Cho, Hatha’s spirits always seemed to be brighter and more exuberant. Cho, as well, would go from strong female warrior to giggling girl in a matter of seconds if Hatha would flash one of his well worn smiles at her.

Yet, neither of them did anything about it.

After a particularly amusing visit when Cho got so flustered she actually tripped over a small stump while trying to leave, Gar decided to ask Hatha what he thought. They had become good enough friends by this point, and the prince felt it would be okay to broach the subject.

Gar agonized over how to bring up the subject.

“Hatha, how did you wife die?” he asked abruptly.

The moment the words toppled out of his mouth, he wanted to kick himself. A diplomat was supposed to have tact, and he had just succeeded in letting the worse introduction possible to the delicate subject dribble out of his mouth.

Thankfully, the Aklesh craftsman took it in stride.

His genial attitude faded a little as he thought about his wife, absent-mindedly whittling a piece or wood as he thought about the unpleasant subject.

“She became ill. It was a long time ago,” he said then resumed his work.

Gar was working on what was going to be a table and continued to do so, allowing a little more time pass before he took the subject any further.

“I’ve been curious,” Gar asked, trying to sound casual. “Can Aklesh people join more than once in their lives.”

Hatha gave a hearty laugh. “Did you have your eye set on someone?” he asked.

Gar laughed as well. “No. I’ve got enough problems already.”

Hatha cleared his throat and continued with his work, “Yes, well, that’s understood. No, a person can only join once.”

It was clear he meant not to offend Gar, but his situation was still considered a taboo subject among the native people.

Gar tried to steer back on course.

“Have people ever decided to be together and
not
join?”

Hatha stopped what he was doing and thought for a moment. The idea seemed like it was new to the craftsman while Gar couldn’t believe that no one had thought of it before. The craftsman thought it over for a while, mulling the concept around. The young prince could see the gears turning in his head and hoped Hatha would come to the same conclusion he had weeks before.

“I can’t think of anyone,” he said, and returned to his work.

Gar became a little exasperated but did not want to give up.

Hatha was strong and good-looking, especially to Cho, which was the most important fact. And he was maybe ten years her senior, which wasn’t inappropriate by any means. He couldn’t join again and she already had too many voices in her head.

In Gar’s opinion, it was the perfect match.

The trick was getting them to see it as well.

He made one last attempt.

“Is there some tribal law that forbids it?” Hatha stopped only briefly this time. “No. There’s no custom against it, I think. At least as long as both people are willing.”

In that moment Hatha’s eyebrows shot up, the full concept landing with a thud. Gar relaxed knowing the Aklesh, although slow on the uptake, had finally gotten it. He smiled at his tutor, who was no longer thinking about the task at hand, but about other, more pleasing thoughts…

…most likely about Cho.

***

The evening meal was a communal event and everyone in the keep took part, except, of course, for those who were not already away on a hunt or other excursion for the tribe.

The meal took place at two locations, one on the ground and another on the first platform.

The one at the base of the keep was primarily for the elderly, farmers, crafts people and the children. It was much larger than the one that took place above, which was usually attended by the warriors and tribal elders of some importance. The two groups freely intermingled and nobody seemed to notice if there were children running about up above or hunters taking their meal down below. But, people mostly kept to their eating area.

The evening was when protein and breads were introduced in to the Aklesh diet. During the day, fruit and nuts were what most people would consume. Also, it took the better part of the day to prepare a kill appropriately for dinner that night.

Gar looked forward to this meal since he had always been a consummate carnivore and some of the meats of the tribe were particularly savory when seasoned with the local herbs and roasted over a spit.

Indeed, a person seldom had to be told it was time to eat since the delicious smell tended to waft through the entire keep.

Gar and Kai were eating with Tyro’s family on the first platform on that particular evening. There was nothing different from any other day, so when Gar heard hollering from down below at the other eating area, he was quite surprised.

“Is something wrong?” he asked Seema, who was on his left.

The shouts were not angry, but joyful.

“Doubtful,” she replied wryly. “You’ll see.” Gar looked to his right at Kai, who sat between him, Tyro and Tilo. Both of the warriors’

expressions were also glad when they heard the cheering, though they said nothing. Gar did a quick mental search of Kai. There was a sense of excitement inside him, as well as a little apprehension. The young tribesman felt the other one’s probe and shot him a look, with a smile.

You’ll see.

Having heard the same response as Seema’s, Gar sulked a little, hating to be left out.

Almost at that exact same moment, a drumming sound came from the far left.

Vol’s hunting group stood there, intimidating as they were, pounding their spears on the ground for attention. They had come up from the ground level and were preparing to make a proclamation.

The whole tribe stopped and stared. Gar didn’t have to be a psychic to feel the static of excitement take hold of all those assembled. The crowd all sat eagerly, waiting to hear the announcement.

Abruptly, the pounding of the spears stopped and silence fell over the crowd. Vol’s voice rang out clearly.

“The Rasclaan have been sited on the plain!” She exclaimed. “The time for the Festival of Dryrise has officially begun!”

This brought the crowd to its feet with whoops and much cheering. Everyone was very happy.

Apparently it was going to be a big party, though Gar still had no idea what it all meant.

The Festival of Dryrise?
he sent to Kai.

Kai stopped hollering and jumping with everyone else for a moment and smiled broadly at him, raising one eyebrow to mock Gar’s own quizzical expression. This had become their ongoing joke.

You’ll see
, he repeated again, a feeling of joy emanating from him.
You’ll see.

Gar then watched Kai’s face fall for a moment and sensed an apprehension at the mention of the festival. The image of Kai’s father flashed in his mind. But it was fleeting. It was a moment to weakness and Kai quickly pulled his stray thoughts together.

Soon enough Kai began shouting and hollering again, enjoying the reverie of his people and the moment was forgotten.

Later on Gar was finally told what the Festival of Dryrise meant, after all the excitement had a chance to ebb a bit.

It was the festival that marked the time of harvest for the Aklesh people and the end of summer. The celebration had two elements:

The first was the Great Hunt which was a contest among the hunting groups and a source of great pride with the warriors. The details of this event were still a little fuzzy to Gar, even though it had been described to him several times.

Each hunting group would set off for the migrating Rasclaan on the plain. They had to try and pull one of the creatures away from the herd.

Gar came to understand that this was hardly as easy as it sounded. Most hunting groups did not even get this far.

Once a group claimed its prey from within the heard, then the real hunt would kick into high gear. Only that hunting group would be allowed to pursue its chosen quarry. If the group failed to catch it, then the animal would be allowed to run free. According to what he had heard when he asked over the next few days, there had been years when none were caught and, in the best years, it would be maybe two or three. Gar could only imagine how hard to capture these creatures were if they could elude the 12 hunting parties of the Aklesh tribe.

Gar had seen glimpses of the creatures in Kai’s mind’s eye, but this did not seem to do them justice. The way it was described by Kai and many other warriors who had taken part in previous years, there was honor in just separating one of the creatures from its herd. To actually catch and kill a beast was considered one of the highest honors in the tribe.

It didn’t surprise him to learn Vol’s hunting party had the most kills in recent history and Tyro’s group had none.

The second major event was the Sunset Feast of Dryrise, where the creatures successfully caught were eaten, obviously. Also, it was the time they consumed the food that would not be able to last through the wet and cold season and to enjoy the harvest before supplies became rationed and the people hunkered down to await the winter months that the Aklesh called Coldrest.

The upcoming season was not something that Gar was particularly looking forward to. The summer had been a fine time while living among the Aklesh as their guest. But weathering a winter with them was another matter entirely. As an aristocrat used to finer living and never knowing the hardship of harsh weather, he felt ill equipped to handle the unknown challenge.

The passing of seasons was a concept that Gar found amusing. There was no such thing as spring or fall or wet season or dryrise on Orestus.

The temperature was always perfect and the weather fair. This was, or course, because the environment on his home was completely manufactured. On occasion they’d program in a rainfall or snow, just to make things interesting or to celebrate some ancient holiday. But the changes were always mild at best and of short duration.

The people were given several weeks advance warning and those who wished to could stay indoors and refrain from taking part.

Gar had been taught about the seasons as a child by his tutor and friend Janphor, but it wasn’t till he was a little older and went to other planets that the theory was seen in practice. That had been quite a daunting experience for him. Although many worlds could control their environments to some extent, the randomness that anything could happen, and very often did, amazed him.