Of Stuff and Nonsense

My conversation with Mezoo had jogged a memory, which sent me in search of something in my wagons. I am a simple man with simple needs.


My personal wagon would probably be called spartan by some, but it suits me. It has a sleeping platform covered with warm furs, rugs on the floor to insulate my bare feet on mornings when I get up and the frigid outside air had seeped into the floor boards. I have a locked chest to hold my weapons, and another to hold clothing. Simple. It is all that I need.


I have found, that women are all the same in some respects, whether they are free or slave, and my slaves are no different. There is something in a woman that makes her want to fancy things up, to make them appealing or pretty. Even my girls are guilty of this. They had this habit of bringing things into my wagon, that......match. They can't quite understand that I do not want or need a tapestry that matches one of the rugs on the floor. Flowers belong on the plains in their natural home, not in some jar in my wagon. I believe that my hand across their cheeks has finally convinced them that my personal wagon is just fine like it is. It does not need to match.


Ok, this does not mean that I have nothing. Quite the contrary. I am a Tuchuk warrior, I raid, rape and pillage with the best of them, and over the years, I have accumulated a lot of......stuff. Stuff that I do not use, or need exactly, but that I do not part with because it can be of value to someone else, maybe, and can be traded for some stuff, that I do need. It is a simple concept. Or to me it is.


There is a downside to this accumulating of stuff. While my personal wagon, and the wagon I use in scarring are quite basic and organized, the wagons where I keep this stuff, are not. And it has gotten even worse since I have become Ubar because people keep leaving me gifts of....stuff on my platform, and I have one of the slaves take it to what I jokingly call..my storage wagons.


So that morning when I had the singular thought of purpose, to find that one small item, I was actually dismayed that it was not in the chest where I kept my clothes, nor in the one where the weapons were, which meant that I needed to go look through my stuff for it. The very idea of that is daunting in itself.


In the first one I began to open chests, peek in barrels and even slit open the tops of bags. Ah, there was that dagger I took off a dying Arian. Why was he dying, that is another story for another time. But it is of nice quality steel, blade and handle all cast as one piece and well balanced. The handle is wrapped in leather that is darkened by years of skin oils and sweat from the hands that have held it. I slipped it into my belt, I think I will add mine to the handle.


The next barrel was bolts and bolts of cloth like women like to make tunics with. I drug this to the platform. It will be sent to Cana, she is a woman, she sews so she will know what to do with it.


The next that I opened, when I pulled the straw away that was protecting the contents, proved to be a chest of toys for children. Small leather shields and wooden swords, even some leather greaves and bracers sized for a child. I amused myself with a wooden bowl on a stick, with a cork ball hanging from a tether trying to get the ball into the cup by swinging it. Now so easy as it looks.


There was a small box of warriors cast from some metal, all brightly painted with the ridiculous red tunics and tiny weapons in their hands. There seemed to be two factions, painted with different styles of tunics. I could see the value of using these to maybe teach the value of battles.

There were all manner of animals stitched from fur and stuffed with somethingm and with these shiny discs for eyes. Even a couple of larger dolls dressed in the robes of free women. I turned one of these over and just as I suspected, nothing of interest under those robes. Maybe Canas' girls would find them amusing when they were older.


There were also animals carved from wood. It is always amazing to me how dwellers waste something as precious as wood. Some of the animals had small wheels on them and cords that ran to a large wooden handle. It seemed they were meant to be pulled over the ground. Interesting. There was even a small wooden wagon with metal wheels and a long handle on it for pulling. I can almost see Also pulling his sisters around in it.


Amazingly enough there were also toys made from another metal. And if I am not mistaken this metal was silver. Out here on the plains, mothers often find dried gourds that have the seeds still in them. When you shake them, they make a noise that seems to fascinate babies. Some of these silver objects were like that, but when you shook them the sound they made was more musical. These would go to his nieces. They were the daughters of a Ubar, the nieces of a Ubar, why would they not deserve engraved silver rattles. It made perfect sense to me.


At the very bottom I found something that did puzzle me. It was a bundle wrapped in leather. Taking it out I sat down cross legged and untied the thongs that held it shut and folded back the leather. There was this thing I know is called a frame. Dwellers often used these wooden frames to put around portraits. I have seen this before. But there was no portrait in this one, only what appeared to be a smooth, flat stone. Odd.


There was a canister and when I took the lid off of it, there seemed to be these sticks of candy like I have seen in the cities in it. Taking one out I sniffed it, but did not get that aroma of mint that I had expected. In fact, it did not smell. Taking a bite off the tip, I immediately spit it out for it had no flavor. Stupid dwellers. It fell on the framed stone and when I reached to brush it off, something curious happened. It made a mark. Taking the small bit, I made other marks then rubbed them off with my fingers.


Another distant memory made its' was through my head. I remember these things from a city once. There were shops that sold goods and the merchants had bigger pieces of this same stone on stands and wrote the prices of their good with something someone told him was chalk. That is what this was. One of those boards and the canister held several new pieces of this chalk. Immediately, I thought of Also, and his penchant for drawing pictures on the ground with a stick.


Carefully I wrapped the bundle back up and tied the thongs. All of the toys were placed back in the chest with the bundle on top and shoved it over and between the flaps to the platform. Then resumed my hunt.


Two barrels of salt were found in one corner, a large bag of blackwine beans, Damn I could use a bowl of blackwine about now, various bags of herbs and spices, sugar and some dried fruit. All of this found its' way to the platform.


Opening the drawers on a standing chest I found other oddities. In one, there was an intricately carved box which contained those golden chains and what not that the Vaci were so fond of. But in there, I also found a few simpler pieces that caught my eye. This box was tucked into his tunic as he continued his search.


Finally, I found it, wrapped in a small square of cloth. Taking it out I held it up to the dim light that came through the smoke hold in the top of the wagon. It was a small disc of bronze, a perfect example of two metals that had been brought together each with a different property to it. One for strength, the other for pliability, then they had been shaped, the rough edges filed off, to make this simple object. This would be a gift for Mezoo. It would need to be cleaned in polished, but even in the dim light he could see how it would pick up the light and cast the gold and amber back towards her. A simple gift, but one that I thought would suit her.


I was still admiring the disc when I threw the flaps of the wagon open and stumbled over the....stuff, I had shoved out onto the platform. I turned to look over my shoulder and had to admit the wagon looked emptier, more organized. But that is because all the stuff was on the platform blocking my way!


Fortunately for me, and for him, a passing out rider asked if he could take some of the boxes and barrels somewhere for me. Bright lad, he did not mention that I was trapped behind all this stuff, he might earn a promotion for his discretion. Soon, he and one of comrades were carrying the chests, barrels and bags off to where I wanted them delivered.


Me? I was on my way to polish my gift, already thinking of the light it would bring to her eyes.

Branding

For the most part the branding went well. There were several of the women that came to help that had never branded before, and I tried to teach them how it was done. I am a firm believer in women knowing how to do such things. Think about it. A woman that has no mate should be able to do these things. I have a great deal of respect for those women that are independent enough to want to do things for themselves. I will admit to getting irritated at times with women that will not ask for help when they need it, but that does not mean I respect them any less.


I know that in many ways they are considered weaker than men, but trust me, in my way of thinking there is no such animal as a "helpless woman". There may be those that manipulate a little more to get men to do things for them in the guise of being helpless, but most are quite capable. Case in point, take women like Tarra, Noya and even Cana. Most of them would fight you to keep you from taking things from them that they are capable of doing. Trust me, I know this, I have tried. And all three of these women know who to go to for help. They will not stand around looking forlorn and helpless, they will find a way to get things repaired.


If your wagon cover needs repair, find a leather worker, if the metal bands on your wagon are worn, find an ironworker. Axle's need greasing, grease them yourself or get a slave to do it. My mother was that way. She considered the things around her wagons as falling under her domain, and Skies help you if you tried to take that away from her.


But I digress.


It is always good to see our people working together, it brings a flavor to the work being done. Yamka caught onto the branding really quickly. I will not worry about her not being able to take care of her herd as she accumulates it. And watching Cana is amazing, she just has this way of working that beast of hers' so that they make cutting the calves away from the herd look simple. I have some out riders that I want her to teach that to, including me. You could tell that Tarra and Kaeli were also adept at branding, and that this was not their first, and it is always good to have them around to help guide the younger ones. Asria did show up, and I would not expect her to participate in her condition, but I got the distinct impression that branding was not for her. Too dirty.


Mezoo even showed up, and brought her curiosity with her. I think the women in her family have tended mostly to their verr herds, and less to the bosk, so much of this was new to her. With Yamka's help, she even tried her hand at branding a few. With more practice, they will all be first rate branders.


Taking a break to share food and drink and conversation was even nice. And it gave us a chance to relax. I took Mezoo over to see where the iron workers were working on the branding irons. Sort of a I am man, I will show you how it is done thing, but it did not turn out that way. In that manner of hers, she began to ask questions. Clear cut questions. Those questions that always surprise and interest me when they come from her.


We talked about metals, the ones that were stronger, the ones that were more pliable and how when you mixed them you had something strong, yet flexible. What made me say what I did, I have no idea. But, I shared with her my view that people were like metal in some ways. You took something strong, mixed it with something more malleable, honed off the rough edges, and you were left with something much more interesting. At first there was puzzlement in the look she gave me, but I stood there and watched it in her eyes. The growth of a new idea, from that small seed that I planted. That, is what attracts me to Mezoo.


We did not get to finish our conversation, as there was a commotion near the branding fires that I needed to tend to. It seems that Yamka had been kicked by one of the calves. Kicked badly enough to have broken a rib? Or so Kaeli diagnosed. I will have to keep an eye on that particular little calf. Seems he is stronger than most.

When And How Did it Begin?

To think back on when he first noticed her, it is hard. At first, her face seems to melt into the crowd of others that all came around the same time. In fact, his first conscious memory of her is in the company of that drummer, who seems to have outgrown his leathers, or maybe it is that he is trying to wear leathers that are too big for him, yet.



It is not like someone, or something, yanked him up, pointed to the spex and said......Look at that one there! Look at her closer! But he did listen as others spoke of her. Her father was killed in the same attack as Asria's mate, and she was now under the guardianship of Fonce.



Maybe it was that night she tossed the stone to him. The moment he caught it, he could feel a warmth radiate from it. Was that from simply having been in her grasp? But the warmth lingered. Again, was it from the warmth of her fingers, or was it from the fire that seemed to burn in the stone, the reds, golds and ambers that shimmered there? All he knows is, that there was just something so elementally right about holding it in his hand, running his calloused fingers over it. His hand extended to give it back, but her hand lifted to block its' return and she told him to keep it.


Probably if anyone else had told him that, he would have refused, but there was just something about this stone, something that felt right about it. For the briefest of moments, a thought flashed in his head that the stone was where it was supposed to be. In his possession.


Since receiving it, he has kept it with him constantly. Often he unconsciously takes it out, fingers moving along the smooth, polished surface which still seems to hold that warmth. Now of course, that is foolish, but that is how it seems to him. The stone has become almost like a talisman, something that he worries with his fingers as he things and ponders thing.


But, that is not what is important. What is important, is that is when he truly took his first, long look at the young woman, seeing an amused intelligence dancing in her eyes. Something that he did not see in everyone. In fact, something that he saw only in a few.


She caught his eye and his interest, so he took the next step, being the "honorable" Tuchuk that he is. He spoke to her guardian, Fonce about being allowed to speak with her more, to get to know her better. Permission granted.


That is how it started. He thinks.

Women Who Are Not Osts,...Or Not Osts, Yet

Turns his thoughts to the women who are not osts in his world. The ones that he considers friends, who he has some sort of trust in.



Kaeli of the sense of humor. He enjoys the conversations that they have had. After he had first come to these fires, she was the one who had extended the effort to get to know the man that stood in the shadows leaned up against the wagon simply observing. Having a friend among the healers is not an entirely bad concept. She is the mate of Jai, the iron worker and a trusted friend. Never has he seen two people so meant for each other, unless it might be his parents.



Aponi, the struggler. The young woman has overcome much to gain favor and her place at the Ubar's fires. Beautiful, funny and loving. She is not Tuchuk by blood, but she has found a way to be Tuchuk by heart. If it weren't from his past experiences and the promise he had made to his parents, perhaps he would have gotten to know her better, but that is no how it was to be. And rightly so, for she has found her heart in Tengfei, another that had to overcome many obstacles to secure his place here. It has turned out to be a productive union, thus far.



Tarra, the spex. A woman of talents and hard earned wisdom about life. He values her input; however he does not always heed it. He is a man, and will set his own destiny, as any man will. Often her words can edge up to the line of being disrespectful of others, but that is who she is. She is open with her ideas and her words, does not hold back, which is sometimes appreciated, and sometimes not. He considers her a friend, someone that he can trust and gain wisdom from. Strong, determined, but there is also a softness to her towards those she cares about. He has seen it often. How can you not respect her and want her to be counted among your friends?



Cana, the mate of his brother. What can he say about her, other than Ba'atar is one lucky bastard, not that he always realizes it, but he is. But she is more than simply the mate of a man. She is a mother, a sister, a friend, a confidante to many, and one of the best kaiila trainers they have. She reminds him of the willow trees that grow along the banks of some of the streams on their lands. Beautiful, graceful, dignified, but possessing a strength at the core that makes her able to withstand the harsh winds of life that assault her.



Then there are the newer additions to the fires, the younger women that are just coming into their own. The fact that he would be made guardian over some of them had never occurred to him when he agreed to sit upon the grays. Now just how do you do that, and remain unbiased?



Yamka, the leather worker. Over many moons he has sat and watched her grow, mature into a beautiful young woman. She is no longer the childlike creature that thought to tackle him at the fires one night. At that time, she had reminded him of a sleen pup, all feet and legs, and not sure what to do with either of them. But no more. A beautiful woman with a tenderness about her. Still naive in many ways, but he can see her growing into her own almost daily. She has asked to get to know him better, and he actually thinks she will make a good friend. She just has to get over the ost thing, because she does not fall into that category.



Seveya, the artisan. They have probably gotten off on bad footing, but perhaps that will change. He simply wanted to test her mettle, to see if she was as closed to ideas as she seemed to be on first blush. He does understand how she feels about her art, sort of. He just hopes that she will soon learn that she has to be more than her art, that there is more to her than colors upon a canvas. That is what he wants to see. Will the real Seveya step up? He hopes it is soon, because he has already given permission for her to be ringed and he hopes that is not a mistake.


Asria, the year keeper? Not exactly sure where to classify her at the moment. A woman that has just lost a mate, who has a child to guide, that needs to pick up the strings of this new life that has been thrust upon her. She will be given some leeway because of all of this. She too needs to find her niche' at the first fires, her offering of what she brings to them. This is one of the reasons that he has asked Cana to guide her, to mentor her. Besides, he likes the child Lei. Beautiful, smart and not one to back down. A lot of spirit in that one.



Mezoo, the spex. That is for another time.

Women That Are Osts

It is no secret that he has his reservations when it comes to women. In fact, he has made it clear many times. Is this to protect them from him, or vice versa? Maybe both. There is a history behind it, that he does not share for the simple reason that it is something he has struggled for many turnings to put behind him, and it is no ones' business.


The first woman in his life would have to be his mother. She loves him, she has to doesn't she? He is her son. Does she like him? Not much. He has spent the biggest part of his life seeking approval and validation from her, and his life finally became easier when he realized it was not coming. For him and his younger brothers, there was always the knowledge that the First Son at their fires was the favored one, and nothing would change that in the woman's eyes. Once he had reconciled himself to that, he had been able to move on with his life.


Although many have heard him call women osts, there are only actually a few who are true to the venomous nature of the creatures. Those that know no loyalty, the liars, the schemers, the one's that try to discreetly or indiscreetly spread sexual favors around, thinking that they are above being in a collar, or too special to end up in one. Truth is, most of them would not live long in a collar, and some do not even deserve the modest dignity that a collar provides. They are the true osts.


One of his real problems with some women, is that they forget they are women. There are those that blatantly act like men with breasts, that cannot seem to reconcile themselves to what and who they are. Once he gets past his anger at them, he begins to pity and feel sorry for them. How can they ever know happiness? Osts.


Then there are those that are as prickly as the cactus you often find in those drier regions of the plains. They ones that carry their perceived slights on the outside, and use them as weapons against any and everyone that does not agree with their way of thinking. Osts. These are usually the ones with the venomous tongues that they ply at will. There is nothing uglier, or more unattractive to most men than a woman that spits hateful words at will, knowing that they will harm or injure, but just not caring one way or the other. Osts.


What most of these women seem to forget is the fact that they are women in a man's world. Tuchuk men are proud of the spirit of their women, and in that pride they give them much latitude in thought, deed and word. And a true Tuchuk woman knows her value, but she also knows her place. But unfortunately, even among the wagon people there are those that seem to think they are exempt from any kind of restraint. That have the attitude of……no man will tell me what I can or cannot do. Wrong! Eventually there will come the man that will tire of that attitude and will deal with them.


And so, this is the tale of the Osts.

I Am Ayguili.

I am Ayguili. I am not Ba'atar. I have great respect and love for my brother, but I am not him. I do not walk like him, I do not talk like him, and I do not think like him. I am my own man.

There have already been whispers that Ba'atar would not have done it that way. Ba'atar told me this, Ba'atar told me that, Ba'atar promised me this or that. I do not know what my brother has said to anyone, or what he may have promised, so my wishes will not follow his. I am Ayguili.

I do not know how long I will sit upon the honored gray furs, but while I do, I will make decisions with my own mind and my own heart. It is the only way I know how to do things, my way.

I believe in the time honored traditions of my people, but I also realize that there are times when we must make changes in order to survive. Just as the stream has to have fresh water to flow into it, so that it does not get stagnant and die. Just as we try to keep on the move, to not over graze the land. Change is needed, change is imperative or we will weaken as a people.

I know there are those that cling to the old ways with a tenacity that is almost awe inspiring, but on the other hand, it keeps them from looking around themselves to see the possibilities that are available.

My intent while I am Ubar, is to initiate some changes. But I have to be cautious and do it in a way that does not totally threaten the foundation of who we are. To make this change successful, I have to communicate with the people, let them know what is going on so there will be no more distorted thoughts or rumors. I have to instill in them the confidence to come to me and ask and to not just assume. I do not want them to fear talking to me. I have discovered in my life, that listening to others is always important, that is how you learn about them, and they learn about you. Even if you are Ubar and have the final word, you still have to listen.

I have already made some changes. I have asked Fonce to take up the reins of his command again and to be my second in command. I am a firm believer in surrounding myself with people that I can trust, and who I know will be honest with me and give me the guidance that I seek. He agreed with his own caveat, and I would have expected no less of him.

He will take on the responsibilities that I asked, but he has warned me that he will not follow blindly, and I would not want him to. If he does not agree or understand the direction I am going he will question and discuss it with me. And this is what I am looking for. I respect him as a man, a warrior and I respect the fact that he has walked this path before me, and his thoughts can be invaluable. I am comfortable with this change.

In talking with him about the responsibilities about being second in command, I also asked his thoughts on his clan, and he impressed me with is honesty, his integrity and his vision. So, I have also asked him to take over as head of the Spex clan. And I have done this for basically the same reasons that I wanted him as my second in command. I trust him and I want to see where he will lead.

Changes are never easy, but I hope to instill enough trust in me that people will reach out and embrace them, instead of fearing them. That is the challenge of life, to be able to accept that which is unfamiliar and either learn from it, or conquer your fear of it.

I am Ayguili.

The Keeper of My People

Blessed is the servant who loves his brother as much when he is sick and useless as when he is well and can be of service to him. And blessed is he who loves his brother as well when he is afar off as when he is by his side, and who would say nothing behind his back he might not, in love, say before his face. ~St Francis of Assisi


For all of our lives, Ba'atar has always gone first and wore the path down for the rest of us to follow. On this day, it is no different.


When he came to me with the news of his quest, I can't say I was surprised. I had known that the rogues that plagued the plains had been in both of our thoughts. Would I have liked to have gone with him? Of course I would have, what warrior wouldn't? But the truth was, my duty was here.


Did I want to be Ubar? Hell no! I have never been one of those ambitious men that sought such things. You are too public, too exposed. Would I be? Yes, for the good of my people and the peace of mind of my brother, I would.


I was a man that basically had nothing, other than my wagons, the tools of my clan, a strong, temperamental kaiila, enough bosk to make me not a poor man and two slaves. I didn't need more than that, for they took care of my basic needs. Now suddenly, I have the entire tribe to watch over, which includes his woman and six of my nephews and nieces.


Damn! How did that happen?


I do not visit the wagons of my parents often. I love them, I respect them, but my presence is not always appreciated, that is just how it is. But on this day, I needed the counsel of one that I did respect, one that probably knew me best. I needed my Father.


Now, I would love to say my Mother was pleased to see me, but all she could see was that her favored son had rode off into what she considered certain danger and death, and I remained behind. This did not set well with her and she made her thoughts known on it. She does not look at my face and see the scars of a tested warrior, I think she sees a coward, and if this is so, then so be it.


My father finally spoke up and told her to take her rant somewhere else, that he and I needed to talk. When we were alone, and only then, I put a voice to my uncertainties of what I was undertaking.


In that calm, self-assured way that he has, my father gave me the advice and the wisdom that will carry me forward on my own quest.


"My Son, it is time for you to step out of the shadow of your brother and to take your place, no matter where it might be. You are not Ba'atar. You do not think as he does. You do not speak as he does. And, you will not be the same Ubar as he is, or was. Be yourself, trust your instincts and surround yourself with people that you can talk to and you can trust, and you will be fine. Do not try to walk his path, make your own path. Do not allow your past to cloud your present and your future. It is also time to step away from that, and be Ayguili, Ubar of the Tuchuk. Love your brother, respect him, but love the People first."


This is what I needed, that reassurance that I could do this. When I stood to leave, he placed his hands on my shoulders, gave them a squeeze and told me that he would always be here for me, and to not stay away so long.


So I take the reins of this unwieldy beast known as the Tuchuk, and I will try to guide it along the right path across the plains. May the Sky help me.