1.1. Witness
1.1.1.Makashti on the hill
The child wove the final poppy into the crown she made from
flowers that grew along the bank of the river. Over a calm pool she placed the
crown on her head, brushed a mosquito from her forehead, and leaned over to
admire her reflection.
Her horse nickered and leaned against its mother that drank
from the river, a tributary of the Thomulk that split Sinefora into halves: the
western half the breadbasket of Sinefora; the eastern half a wilderness of grassy
plains beyond which lay the slate cliffs that fell to the Eastern Ocean nearly
a mile below. Her horse nickered again and a whinny answered from across the
river where no one should be.
“Father!” she called and ran to the bearded man who finished
laying out their picnic.
“Here, Makashti,” her father said.
“Father, come,” she said and led him to the bank where they watched
a family trek upstream along the far side of the river.
The family wore leathers with fur trim meant for the cold of
Tur not the temperate climate of Sinefora. The man carried a large pack and the
woman beside him carried a child in a basket on her back and another in a sling
at her breast. Two children, a boy and a girl, walked with them and behind them
trailed a horse which dragged two poles behind it and upon which lay a burden.
The only color to break the dull tan and black were green and orange feathers
tied to the long braided hair of the mother and the girl. The girl of her age watched
Makashti from across the river.
“Quarajii,” her father said. “Barbarians from Tur.”
“How did they climb the slate cliffs?” she said.
Her father reached out and plucked a mosquito from the air.
“Do you know the only creature that lives on more kinds of terrain than this
insect?” The girl shook her head. “Man, and the beasts he brings with him. If a
four-thousand foot cliff cannot stop this mosquito, it will not stop the Qu.”
“Where do they go?” she asked.
“To live,” her father said. “The North must be getting difficult
for them.”
“Where to?”
“South. The Quarajii have old dreams of the South, beyond the
Spine,” he said and pointed to the high mountains that separated the North from
the South. “But the Spine will stop them.”
Makashti pointed to the burden the horse dragged behind it
which appeared to be an elderly person
“They care for one another,” she said.
“Yes. But it will not help them,” he said. “If they do not
die in the Spine they will turn north to Sinefora where the governor will kill
them.”
“Why?”
“If the Qu come, the Horde will follow. Sinefora is the only
barrier to the Horde entering Sularia. And if the Horde comes they will scrub
the land like locusts, and leave nothing standing. The Emperor will come and
destroy the rest.”
“But there are other places they can go.”
Her father shook his head. “To the south is the Spine which they
cannot cross. To the east is the Eastern Ocean. To the west are the fast rivers
of Cherryth and the Northmen who will stop them.
Makashti feared for the children. “Will you tell the
governor?”
“Perhaps not,” he said and sighed. “But I fear more will
come. This may be just a trickle of the flood to follow.”
“If the governor sees them, he will kill them?”
“Not if there are millions.”
... to be continued.
(c) 2015 B. R. Strong, Jr.
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