The Tower of Il Serrohe (35 page)

Raquela opened her eyes the next morning just as the sun peeked over the distant mountains casting fifty-mile long shadows across the Valle Abajo, Dream River, and its magnificent bosque. She was surprised to see Don only inches away. He looked uncharacteristically innocent as he slept.

She remembered bits and pieces of the previous day: an arrow piercing her back, Don carrying her through the thicket, the smell of Soreyes, the cries of Kastmin children, a blur of the trees and dusty trail back to the Càhbahmin dorm, Florentine’s heady mix of pungent tea, Don saying something she couldn’t decipher about her…

Don’s eyes popped open—he was fully conscious. “Raquela! You’re back among the living,” he observed, sitting up. “How are you feeling?”

“
Rested, but I’m not ready to start running. I’m sore and tight all around my waist.” She felt the dressing holding a poultice of herbs and absorbent fibers over the wound. It was swollen although considerably shrunken from its infected state the night before.

Don made a face like he’d gotten a whiff of sulfur. “Those bastards tried to kill you, but Nersite and I got you back—”

“
And Florentine was here—”

“
Still is. She’ll probably check on you now that you’re making noise.” Don turned toward Nersite whose breathing and grunting made his lips and cheeks quiver fitfully. “That is, if she can hear you above Nersite. If I hadn’t been exhausted, I would have never gone to sleep with all his wheezing and snorting, the little fart!”

She laughed and immediately winced as the tender muscles pulled on her right side. “Be quiet, you’re making me hurt!” she said with a smile, bravely trying to cover the pain.

“
I’ll try not to be so funny,” Don said, stretching. “Ah, here comes your nurse, now.”

Florentine looked Raquela over with a grandmotherly frown. “Hmm. You seem to be doing OK. Can you think clearly?”

“
Yes, fairly well, except Don’s rude remarks aren’t doing me much good.”

Florentine looked at Don as if he were a wayward child with just the slightest hope of redemption. “Well, I thought as much, but if not for him, you would have died back in that nasty tangle of willows.”

“
I know, Florentine.” She gave Don a look he had not seen before. As if she not only appreciated but accepted him as a worthy companion.

Florentine smiled. “You need more rest in any case, but I’ll get you on your feet for a few times today so you don’t get lethargic. It would be a good idea for your traveling partners to tend to other business, so you can focus on healing and regaining your mobility.”

By this time even Nersite was awake. He stood next to Don rubbing his eyes.

“
Nersite,” Don said, “that’s a clue that we should continue our little jaunt while Raquela gets back on her feet. What do you say?”

“
Sure. We need to visit a couple more villages, and spread the word that we want folks from each clan to meet in Il Mote in a few days.”

“
I would really like to go with you,” Raquela said, “but I must follow her advice. I can meet you in Il Mote when everyone comes together.

“
Nersite, see if you can find Jasin or Flit or any of the Sianox about coming together.”

She turned to Don. “I didn’t have much confidence in you at first, for that I apologize. But now you should learn everything you can from the other clans. We’ll see each other in a few days.”

Don shook his head, smirking. “I know I don’t make a good first impression, but I didn’t think too much of you either. I knew you were skeptical of me; I would have been if I were you. But you’re a tough young woman and the clanspeople are starting to grow on me. So for now, I’m going ahead with this… this… whatever it is.”

Nersite was satisfied. “Good, then ‘The Way It Is’ may not be so bad after all. Let’s drop in on the Taurimin for a hearty breakfast and hit the road.”

Don wanted a private moment with Raquela to say… what? He didn’t know. He couldn’t allow himself to feel all soft about her after the breakup with Bess so recently, yet… it wasn’t meant to be.

Nersite and Florentine sat like rocks waiting for him to move on. So with a quick squeeze of Raquela’s hand and what he hoped was a private smile and a few moments of eye contact, he left the big open building with Nersite.

As they approached the Taurimin village, they heard the sound of arguing. Jasin descended on them in such a flurry, Don could swear he came out of the sky.

“
Nersite! Don! I’ve heard from my clans’ brothers you were attacked at the Kastmin village! You seem OK. But where’s Raquela?”

Nersite jumped as he, too, was startled by Jasin’s boisterous appearance. “Jasin! Raquela was wounded, but she’s on the mend back at the Càhbahmin big house. Don carried her all the way from the Kastmin lands—and saved her life.”

Don shook his head. “Now, don’t exaggerate, Nersite. You would have done the same… if you could have lifted her… or something.”

“
Nevertheless.”

“
Anyway,” Don continued. “Raquela wants you and your Si, uh, Sian…”

“
Sianox,” Jasin corrected.

“
Yeah, whatever. You need to get around to all the clans’ villages and let them know we want one or two from each clan to meet us in Il Mote in about, what would you say, Nersite?”

Nersite looked a little puzzled. “I don’t know. A while?”

“
Well, how long will it take to see most of the other more friendly clans?”

Nersite looked at his feet. “As a Nohmin, I’m not too good determining time.”

Don sighed.
Geeze, these people!

“
OK, Jasin, what do you think?”

He looked handsome and totally blank. “I don’t know.”

“
OK, look at my fingers.” Don held up his right hand.

“
One day for each finger.” He extended three fingers pointing to each with the index finger of his left hand. “Count a day for each finger. And on this one,” pointing to his right index finger last, “is when everyone should be at Il Mote. Got it?”

Jasin still looked a little stupid. He then looked down at his own hands that were lost in the big folds of his tunic. He mimicked what Don had just showed him, nodding uncertainly. “Ok,” he said at last.

Don sighed, unable to look Jasin in the eye or he would betray his real thoughts.  Instead, he studied his feet like Nersite.
These people are mostly likable, but as much as I hate to think it, they’re pretty stupid! OK, get a grip. Pretend they’re students and move on, hoping for the best.

“
Good,” he said at last. “So get with it. See if you can get your little girlfriend, Flit, to help out, too.”

Jasin looked disgusted. “She isn’t my ‘little girlfriend.’ She’s a thief and liar!” Then he grinned sheepishly. “If I see her, I’ll have her pass the word on, provided she has time to spare from her thievery!”

Off he went, climbing the nearest tree and bounding out of sight in moments.

Nersite and Don exchanged knowing looks. “Don, you don’t have to say anything. Those Sianox are just… what was it you said, ‘a pain in the—”

“
Ass!” Don said, pointing to his butt. “This is my ass and it’s hurting right now.” He laughed feeling like he and Nersite were becoming buddies.
What an odd couple we are!

They proceeded on to a belly busting breakfast, once again admiring the quiet leadership of Toroth and Bissy. They soon headed southeast in the direction of the Il Lentay Gap to the Barbamin village.

Along the way, the sound of feuding birds filled the air. Meanwhile, Nersite tried to prepare him for the odd sight of the Barbamin, who were unlike most of the clanspeople of Valle Abajo.

After traveling through miles of thick groves of cottonwood and willow, they reached a wide, flat area that looked to have been freshly raked and swept with a broom. Don marveled at the gravel that appeared to be manufactured rather than natural since each piece was perfectly round and the same size.

Nersite noticed Don inspecting it as they walked along. “The gravel is the work of the Barbamin,” he said. “Years before my time and yours, this area was a more forested area with uneven ground and a few shallow arroyos pocked with the entrances to root homes of our cousins, the Gomin.”

“
Gomin?”

“
Yes, they looked much like us and lived much the same way though they were bigger. They preferred flat river bottomland while we like the high open ridges and plains, though not too far from the Valle. I don’t know what happened to them. They lived before my time, but I can still smell them here. Niddle-ai has stories about them. They were a fairly dull lot, probably because they didn’t have to deal with the Soreyes.”

“
Maybe things got too exciting for them right at the end. So, no story of their demise, huh?”

“
Their what?”

“
Demise—their end. Why they are all dead and gone. Seems strange there would be no story about
that.
”

“
I’ve wondered the same thing myself. It’s almost like everyone wants to forget about it.”

They continued walking. Don slowly spun around three-hundred-sixty degrees, taking in the full scope of the vast billiard table flatness of it all. They left behind the cantankerous bird calls in the forest.

Ahead, in the middle of hundreds of acres of this flat land, there emerged a vast hill of proportions too symmetrical to be natural.

“
That is the home of the Barbamin,” Nersite said. “They call it Barbahill. They have dug out miles of tunnels and caves inside it well below ground level. It’s a lot like our Nohome, except it’s a hill instead of a tree. It’s rather tight quarters in there,” Nersite said trying to shake off chills running up and down his body.

Don was shocked. “Wait a minute!
You’re
saying it’s ‘tight quarters’!” He looked at the pyramidal shape of the hill that began to loom over them at their approach. “No way in hell
I’m
going in there if it gets to
you
—of all people!”

At the foot of the hill was a nicely engineered set of stairs that looked like finely chiseled, tan rock leading to a small flat platform at the top. It seemed about forty feet high to Don. The whole place, including the plateau and the hill, had been vacant until that very moment.

Suddenly, a huge crowd spilled over the top of the platform and surged down the stairs toward the pair. Don felt panic rising at the sudden appearance of a moving carpet of living beings headed straight for Nersite and him.

“
My God! What—?”

Nersite grasped his arm. “It’s OK. They’re just cautious about being out in the open when strangers approach. They probably smelled and recognized me the moment we stepped onto their flat ground back there, but you are totally outside their experience.”

“
Are they going to kill me?” Don asked, not at all facetiously.

“
Oh no. Had you done anything threatening, they would be prepared to protect their hill. They’re just coming to greet us. They are curious about new things in spite of their caution.”

As they approached, Don saw what Nersite had meant when he said they were different from other clanspeople. About half the height of Nersite, apparently about two feet tall, they bounded down the stairs on all fours. They were wiry and smooth-skinned to the point they seemed glossy—as if they were sweating profusely. While they were black, they were unlike the Africans or Indians in Don’s world.

Their heads were oval with simple features almost like the stick drawings of a child. In spite of their thin arms and legs, their bellies and butts were round. Reaching Don and Nersite, they flowed around them like surges of storm water down an arroyo. They smelled overwhelmingly of smoke.

Right in front of them, an individual who seemed to be a female stood up easily. They apparently ran on all fours because it was more effective, yet could easily stand, as they were now, staring at the pair. Several moments of eerie quiet had passed when Don prepared to speak, but Nersite nudged him.

Then the female in front made a high-pitched vibrating sound almost beyond Don’s range of hearing. He wasn’t sure it was even coming from her throat. At the same time, the air filled with an odor resembling eucalyptus mixed in a very pleasant but unusual way with the smoky smell. Don began to feel woozy from the odors.

Nersite whispered: “The Barbamin are obsessed with odors. They make us Nohmin seem scentless in comparison. The smoky smell is their way of signaling who they are. Anytime you smell that out in the Valle, you will know Barbamin are nearby.”

“
I would think there was a forest fire!” Don whispered back.

“
Oh no, that’s a different smell depending on what’s burning.
This
smoky smell is their own. They don’t need to carry little signascent pouches, either.”

Whatever! But it smells like a pile of burning weeds to me,
Don thought.
So is the tall, skinny chick going to say something or just stand there with her stomach whining?

The “whining” cycled down to the soprano range, like a siren winding down. From this drone, there formed words which Don could understand.

“
Welcome, Nersite of the Nohmin. Our Queen, Hutebazile the Second, the Most Munificent Sovereign of the Barbamin, sends her greetings. She is resting at the moment but will be available for a proper audience later this evening. I am Gert, her third in command in charge of social relations among our castes and the security of Barbahill.”

Don wasn’t sure if he should say something
now,
but he didn’t want to stay around the rest of the day and spend the night.
I would have to sleep outside because I’m not going into any hole in the ground smaller than Nersite’s dinky root home!

Nersite could almost read Don’s mind, so he spoke up. “We are honored by your benevolent queen’s greeting. We are such poor creatures we wouldn’t want to trouble her majesty with our puny selves. We are traveling to all the clans to introduce Don, here, who is a descendant of Teresa the Tall One.

“
Our mission is to unite the clans of the Valle Abajo to drive away the Soreyes and end the misery they have brought upon us all. We won’t be able to stay long, so please make your own report to the queen on our behalf…”

Geeze, I didn’t know the little bastard could ladle on the high sounding bullshit like that! He should be one hell of a storyteller! If this skinny chick buys it, we can move on in a couple of hours. I think I’m going to faint from all these smells. They’re worse than incense in church!

Indeed the pair was inundated with a kaleidoscope of odors with an intensity Don never thought possible. It was an odorous equivalent to a one hundred foot cinema screen featuring 3D computer-generated visuals in a palette of three million colors.

Fortunately the Barbamin were excited and pleased with their visit. He couldn’t begin to imagine if they had been pissed off! They were led up to the platform at the top and brought odd-looking fruits and vegetables the Barbamin were noted for cultivating.

From their vantage point most of the Valle Abajo was visible including the ominous Tower of Il Serrohe off to the northwest. Immediately south of the pyramid shaped hill were over a hundred acres of fields and orchards where the offered fruits and vegetables were, no doubt, grown along with hundreds of other varieties. Their operation was rivaled only by corporate farms in the Midwest of Don’s world.

The fruits were tasty and full of sweet juice that ran down Don’s chin. The vegetables were flavorful even to him, who was not their greatest fan. None of the flavors were familiar. While he had no way to describe them he enjoyed the feast while he could.

Nersite explained why they were there. Gert spoke, “It pleases us that our new guest enjoys our humble produce. Of course, we have our own rituals that may be of interest. The most important is our Cloud of Persuasion, a battery of odors designed to calm the intentions of a potential aggressor.

“
Unfortunately, it is not a powerful scent and can not stop the determined efforts of a true enemy such as the Sianox…”

Don whispered to Nersite, “Sianox? Is this yet another sign of ill feelings between the clans? I thought you all were hunky dory among yourselves until the Soreyes came.”

“
As I tried to explain, the difference is that there are some
natural
rivalries among the clans, but not where slaves are taken or where there is a determined effort to exterminate others. Occasional fights and even killings do take place, but even the Sianox, who have a strong impulse to attack and take off Barbamin for… uh, survival—”

“
In other words, they eat them—”

“
Please!” Nersite cautioned, noting the careful observation by their hostess. “The Barbamin may not have good eyesight, but they can smell the nature of our conversation.”

“
How?”

“
By the odors we give off that signal our emotions.”

Gert leaned closely to the pair essentially ending their discussion. She spoke smugly. “There’s no need to try to have a private conversation. Our difficulties with the Sianox are well known. We don’t care what lies they spread about us, they are despicable and not to be distrusted by anyone of discernment. Our new guest will soon find that out.”

Nersite smiled a little too widely for Don’s taste. “Sorry, our guest does not have much experience with the Sianox. The Nohmin find them somewhat useful, but we agree they are always ‘up to something.’”

The conversation went on like that with Don learning they also had a Cloud of Confusion used to throw an enemy’s intentions into disarray.
So who else are out to get these folks? Are they paranoid, or do other clans find them a convenient target—probably the tasty crops are a temptation to those who aren’t into farming or paying a fair price in trade.

Then there was their Cloud of Joy, a more positive ritual that unleashed odors to delight almost to the point of drunkenness.
Now that one might come in handy if I can’t find any beer or wine.

Speaking of which, Don inquired about their brewing and wine making capacities, but, alas, they had none, and why would they ever have considered fermenting anything? Don tried to explain the process, but they just looked at him blankly, giving off an acrid odor not unlike sour farts.

Oh well.

This odd but agreeable social occasion came to an end when a loud screech cut through the pleasantries. An instant before the high-pitched cacophony split Don’s head open, Nersite tugged on his sleeve. He had wondered what was bothering the little guy.

Looking around, Don was astonished to find the entire group surrounded by angry Sianox who were wading in among the Barbamin, grabbing with their mouths open as if to eat the Barbamin!

“
What the hell?” Don called out.

The Sianox weren’t having an easy time, though, as hundreds of Barbamin started to flail them at the knees, biting their thighs and calves, while some hung onto the Sianox’ legs like amorous dogs.

Don noticed that the pleasant odors of the gathering had quickly dissipated, replaced by no discernable odor. Oddly, he
knew
  something was there though he couldn’t consciously smell it.

For no apparent reason he was distracted by a little cloud shaped like a puppy dog floating in the sky.
Well, that’s cute!

Ow, my knee!
But there was no one biting him.

Look, there’s Flit! I thought she was a nice girl.

I wonder how many papers are piling up that I haven’t graded yet? Oh no, the new quarter’s not started yet. No, maybe it has and I’m AWOL without a job!

Nersite?
Looking around, he saw Nersite trying to persuade a Sianox to back off. Then he caught sight of Gert spinning around and making a noise like a berserk siren.

The cloud was now kangaroo shaped.
Hmm, cloud… yeah, the “Cloud of Confusion”! That’s what’s going on—

Damn, I could use a beer! How hard would it be to show these people how to brew? Of course, I don’t know how myself. Could make wine, though. That’s easy.

“
Damned Barbamin! Get out! Get going! Get in my soup pot! Damned Barbamin!” the chorus of irritated Sianox yelled.

Geeze, these people sure get pissed off at a bunch of farmers living in a sand hill pyramid!

Though Don had a hard time staying focused on what was happening, he could tell the Sianox realized they had bitten off more Barbamin than they could chew (although Don hadn’t seen any Barbamin actually being
eaten
by the Sianox). They scattered, disappearing almost as fast as they had come.

How the hell did they sneak up on several hundred Barbamin, anyway?

The cloud, which now looked like a yam, quickly evaporated and disappeared within seconds. And the same pleasant odor that first greeted Don and Nersite was evident again, although it was subdued, as if caution prevented the Barbamin from getting giddy with relief at the retreat of the Sianox.

Gert had quieted her siren noise and was moving as if to straighten her gown, except, of course, she was naked.
Why didn’t I notice these Barbamin were naked before? But wait—they don’t have any genitals!
Don snuck a glance at Gert’s pubic area.
Nope, nothing there!

He looked at Nersite.
Yep, he’s got on a brown soft woolen tunic a lot like mine. Must have privates he’s hiding. Everyone I’ve met has some kind of simple clothing.

However, he thought it wise and polite not to inquire about Barbamin genitals or clothing. It occurred to him that this interest could be due to the lingering effect of the Barbamin ritual.

“
So, I take it you used the ‘Cloud of Confusion.’ Pretty effective. I would also call it ‘Cloud of Distraction.’ That could come in handy.”

So no further explanation was needed as to why the diminutive Barbamin were left alone. For the most part, anyway.

Nersite added, “The Sianox do this for amusement rather than anything else.”

“
In my valley, we would call them ‘little chickenshit bastards,’” Don said, then shot Gert an embarrassed look. “Sorry… just a little term—”

“
No explanation needed,” she said coolly. “I don’t know the words you use, but I smell the meaning.”

The pair said their goodbyes and headed out across the flat, artificial plain.

“
OK, Nersite, I get that these people use smell in ways I never imagined. I have a feeling the words she spoke were something she’s learned to get along with the rest of the clans because it seemed she was making other sounds… like their own little Barbamin language—”

“
Language? What’s that?”

“
Well, I don’t know, it sure as hell wasn’t English!”

“
English? What’s
that
?”

“
Oh, well, that’s my name for the language you, the rest of the clans, and I speak… hmm, never thought much about the fact we all speak the same language being from different worlds or dimensions or whatever the hell this is!”

Don thought for several minutes.
I know enough Spanish to cuss and get by. My dad mixed up his English and Spanish so much I had trouble figuring out what he meant by some of his Spanish phrases. Though I did learn enough on the school grounds to know what some of the vatos were saying behind my back.

Come to think of it, everyone here speaks English. You’d almost expect Spanish from the sound of the place names.

Nersite broke the long silence. “I still don’t understand what you mean by language.”

“
Well, you know the words you use, the way you put those words together to communicate your thoughts…”

“
Words?”

“
Geeze, don’t be so dense. Of course, if everyone here uses the same language, there’s no reason to even think about it. I suppose you don’t have any schools or school teachers like me.”

“
Schools?”

“
Enough of repeating every word I say like it’s a question!”

Nersite looked scared and walked along staring at his feet, edging a foot or two away from Don.

“
Sorry, Nersite. I wasn’t mad at you. I guess people here just don’t do things like we do back in my, uh, valley. Didn’t you notice those funny noises Gert was making? I think she was saying something to her fellows that she didn’t want us to know.”

“
They are odd and different. I told you that already, but I never thought about them saying things we wouldn’t understand.
You’re
the one who’s hard to understand a lot of the time.”

Nersite took a few more steps, thinking. Then he asked, “What’s a thought?”

fifty eight

For the last few miles, the trail went from smooth openness to the narrow closeness of overgrowth in the bosque. They were so near Dream River, Don could smell water and verdant growth.