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Chapter 13

  Chapter 13

  Ezhno leaned over and whispered in Mato’s ear, “Not safe to talk. Let’s play, ‘What’s that.’”

  Mato made the most of the opportunity. He learned about night hawks, tree frogs, fireflies, and numerous other things.

  “In Abo all of the mushrooms are safe to eat. Here in the outside that is not true. Most of the mushrooms are toxic to some degree. You must learn which are safe before trying them. If you are unsure, treat it like poison.

  “The same is true for berries. We don’t grow anything in Abo that we cannot eat. Out here, blue berries are often safe, red berries are sometimes safe, and white berries are often poison.”

  “What about other colors?” Mato asked.

  “For other colors, pretend they are red. If you don’t recognize the plant, don’t eat the berries.”

  “What is a bear?”

  “A large animal, sort of like a pig, but with thick fur, long claws, and lots of teeth.”

  “So not like a pig at all?”

  “Correct. Stay away from bears. They run much faster than we can, and they are very strong. If you fight a bear, you will probably die.”

  “So Greta was very brave?”

  “Especially for a horse. Grazing animals do not usually try to fight large predators.”

  “What are grazing animals?”

  * * *

  Morning brought a tense meeting with the priests.

  “What did you learn?” Wisdom Poplar asked.

  “Quite a number of things,” Ezhno said. “First, they are traders and explorers. They are looking for opportunities they can tell their countrymen to pursue.

  “I think they are dangerous, but they said it took them two years to travel this far. I doubt they will try to invade a place so far removed from their homeland.”

  Poplar turned to Mato. “And what do you think?”

  Mato glanced at Ezhno, who nodded for him to speak. “I think they have amazing horses. The men are skilled warriors, and the women might be as well. One of Erik’s daughters told me she was trained to fight.”

  “We observed your match,” Poplar said. “You did well to defeat the outsider.”

  “My match went less well,” Ezhno said. He lifted his shirt to show them his side. It was one massive bruise from hip to armpit. Mato winced.

  “Who did you fight?” Poplar asked.

  “Erik. He is their leader for good reason. I recommend we avoid conflict with them.”

  “Surely Sotsona could defeat him,” the other priest said, kissing his fingertips.

  “Of course, Wisdom Tupi,” Ezhno said. “But Sotsona is not here, and unless he arrives, it would be wise for us to avoid fighting these people.”

  Tupi turned to Mato. “What did you think of their leader?”

  “He seems like a kind man. His wife and daughters do not fear his touch, and his horses love him. He was forgiving with mistakes I made, and taught me things about their culture so that I would not offend them.”

  Tupi frowned. “I meant, what do you think about his skills as a warrior?”

  “Apologies, Wisdom. I think Erik is hiding his strongest abilities. He fought well with his right hand, and better with his left. He carries a sword and a great ax, but he fought Ezhno with a wooden sword and shield. He has scars on his hands and forearms that look like he has survived duels in the past.”

  “And what do you think his chances against Sotsona might be?”

  Mato blinked a few times. “Sotsona is the king, Wisdom. He has all of the strength and knowledge of Abo. I don’t see how anyone could defeat him.”

  “Have you ever seen Sotsona fight?” Poplar asked.

  “No, Wisdom, but I have heard tales from men who have. My teacher assures me that no one can stand before him. Few have seen as much as Ezhno, Wisdom. I think he must be right.”

  “Must be?” Poplar asked.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Mato bowed to the priest. “Apologies, Wisdom. I am clumsy with words.”

  Tupi turned to Ezhno. “And your guess about how much threat they bring?”

  Ezhno shrugged. “Perhaps if they lived right next to Abo they would be a threat. Fortunately, they live far away. They asked me many questions about how to cross the salts.”

  “And you told them?”

  “To bring extra water and food. And shade for them and their horses. The same advice I give to any traveling merchant.”

  “Will they be any threat to the city if they travel there?” Poplar asked.

  Ezhno thought about the question for a bit. “I cannot see how, Wisdom. They have about thirty men and five or six women. It is possible that Erik Bloodaxe could defeat any single guardsman, but we have two thousand guards. And of course, if the matter were urgent, Sotsona himself would intervene.”

  The priests took a moment to confer, whispering to each other, then turned back to Ezhno.

  “What of their morals?”

  “Unacceptable for Abo, but within reason for outsiders,” Ezhno said. “Erik offered dances with his wife and daughters as prizes for winning duels, but he was quick to intervene if anyone tried to do more than dance.

  “I heard a couple of rude jokes, but nothing worse than I have heard from Nambe’s guards.”

  “Tell me,” Tupi said.

  “A northman and an Abo warrior are walking across the salts. After a couple of miles they see someone else, and as they draw closer they see it is a naked woman with a northern helmet.

  “Look,” said the northman, “by the helmet it is clearly one of my people.”

  “Obviously not,” said the Abo warrior, “you can see by the beard she is one of mine.”

  Mato clenched his jaw and fought down the urge to laugh.

  “Why is that funny?” Tupi asked.

  “I have no idea,” Ezhno said, “but they clearly found it hilarious.”

  Tupi clapped his hands hard. “You said it was rude. How is it rude?”

  Mato was relieved when Poplar tapped his comrade on the shoulder. “Because the beard is down below. Because of the helmet you would not be able to see it otherwise.”

  “But everyone has hair down below,” Tupi said.

  “They are implying that Abo women have far more hair than normal,” Poplar said.

  “I don’t understand why that would be funny,” Tupi said.

  “Nor do I,” Ezhno said.

  Mato struggled to stay silent and not draw attention.

  “And the other joke?” Tupi asked.

  “How do you clip a Nambe man’s dick?”

  Tupi made a ‘continue’ motion.

  “Kick his sister in the jaw.”

  Tupi dissolved in giggles.

  Mato disciplined himself to keep his face straight.

  * * *

  After the seekers completed their three days of religious training in Nambe, the cohort took the north gate. Over the next three weeks they would travel in an arc north and west around the edge of the salts, until they reached the trials.

  The land changed completely. For the first five days it was grass about eight feet tall. The trail was only one man wide, and Mato imagined every sound was a lion about to strike. Ezhno didn’t really help, since he made a hobby of creeping up on Mato at all times of day. When he wasn’t doing that, he told stories about the horrors of being attacked by big cats.

  “They can leap forty feet in a single jump. Their claws are as long as your fingers, and their fangs are longer. They have coloring that makes them blend into the grasses, and it is a rare party that travels through their lands without losing anyone.”

  Naturally they dug a latrine just out of sight of the camp, and every time Mato had to relieve himself his hands shook, and his head pivoted every direction whether there was a sound or not.

  It was just when he was figuring out what a horrible prank Ezhno had played on him that his teacher called him forward. Mato ducked and walked forward carefully until Ezhno pointed into the distance.

  Sure enough, there was a huge cat with six kittens frolicking around her.

  “There will be a male nearby,” Ezhno whispered. “Much bigger than the female.”

  Mato gulped. The female was clearly big enough to kill anyone in their party with a single pounce. Clearly Ezhno had not been pranking him after all.

  They left the trail, working their way west for a time, then north, and finally east, to go around the cats. Mato was used to a safe home. He had heard of cats, but the only ones in Abo were in the palace, and they were rumored to be about a foot tall.

  Then they lost a day as a spider the size of a plate bit through one of the seeker’s boots. The men around him killed the spider, but no one could sleep that night. Except Ezhno, of course. He put his bedroll out and was snoring in seconds.

  Fortunately, the priests had healing salve. The bite grew worse for a few hours, then subsided, and about thirty hours later the party moved on.

  As they left the grass lands they moved into the forest. It was much different than the forest east of Nambe. This was moist land with towering trees and animals that wailed and howled at all hours. Mato saw a creature with dark gray hair all over its body grab a deer and bludgeon it to death.

  “Gorilla,” Ezhno said. “They don’t often come this far south. Treat them with respect. They are more dangerous than a bear.”

  Six days of travel westward and they reached the first stream in Mato’s life.

  “What is that?”

  “A stream, Mato.”

  “But how does the water get to the top of the hill?”

  “The rain and wind carry it.”

  That made little sense. Rain fell on the salts about once per year. It wasn’t even enough to wet the salts through. People said that more rain fell on the windward side of mountains. If that was true, how could there be water left after the clouds crossed the western mountains, and the salts?

  However it got there, the stream was marvelous. Mato watched birds catch small fish. Then he found wondrous animals called crayfish under rocks. Ezhno taught Mato and the seekers how to gather the crayfish in a pot, then boil them and eat them. It was a great meal, a bit salty, a bit sweet, and just a bit earthy.

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