The Long Road To... - 23. The Way Out

I purchased a trinket for my visit. A small totem of remembrance in the market. It was a ridiculous object, new, no tradition, and absolutely no style. It would have to do.

I found my way through the city to the old temple. The real temple. I wasn’t surprised that so few people wandered its courtyards now, I had passed the great new one dedicated to the Earth Father. It was grander and held more people, a wondrous, monstrous, modern spectacle. It has been a necessity, the Father had gained so many more followers within our allies’ peoples over the last decades. Their gods were slowly dying and the Earth Father was slowly replacing them.

Aside from taking the people into itself, the new temple took nearly all the sacred objects from the original one. The precious gold, the fine tapestries, and most other items of beauty had been moved to fill the larger halls in the Father’s newest sanctuary. The old rocks in the aged outer yard were bare now.

I could see as I walked through the stone archway, the one item I had hoped would still be there: the statue. It had been too large to move and too sacred to take apart. It was the last remaining reminder of how much had changed.

It was a imposing figure of a man. The Earth Father. He was nude, sitting on a rock, one foot firmly planted and partly buried into the soil, the other rested in a relaxed position, the heel touched the ground with toes in the air. His muscular body resting in a slight bend, was somehow relaxed and comfortable. On the ends of his muscular arms, one hand was slightly turned as if it were stoking the worn stone that he was sitting on with his smallest fingers, his other palm rested gently on his thigh. Between his legs, the large symbol of his fertility and, in extension, the ground itself, hung large and loose over the side of his rock perch. The bearded face was surrounded by flowing waves of hair setting off a dark face, a solemn one. The only joy, it seemed to me, showed in the arc of the brows. They hinted at a humor, an amusement or surprise, something only he could see within the rock under his hand. Yet, one side of his mouth expressed kindness with a barely visible upturned corner.

It was to this figure, The Earth Father of All, that I had come. He was alone.

I trod directly into his courtyard. As I got closer, I saw that the years had worn him. Not the pinnacle expression of the Father that I had remembered, but he was still an awesome reminder of Everything.

I removed my shoes and approached him barefoot as I was taught to do on that pilgrimage of my childhood. My feet touched the ground, his ground.

I padded slowly before him and sank to my knees just in the shadows next to his soil-bound foot. He towered above me. I felt a child, his child.

In silence, I opened my heart to him. I let my mind go. The dirt that touched my ankles and feet was soft. I reached out and put my hand to the stone he sat on. His enormous phallus above.

He did not speak to me.

My eyes were wet.

I began to feel weak.

I leaned on his shin.

It didn’t feel like hard, cold stone; he was warm and soft. I heard a long, low sigh from above. I knew better than to question. All that mattered was that The Father was with me. I kept myself nestled against his soft stone skin. I felt his warmth inside me, my heart soothed. I would stay with him as long as he would let me.

Time passed and I wandered outside myself and with him.

Only when I felt him grow cold and hard again, I knew it was time to go. He had answered. He knew what I had wanted in my heart. I could not understand the question, but he had answered all the same. In spite of everything: war, cold, death, loss, persecution, vision, everything, he would wait for me. It was not my time now, it may not be in these lands, but when it was time, he would find me wherever I was.

I stood again and felt the soil under my bare soles. Cooler now, but still good.

There were so few offerings left in his presence now. So few people came to him here. I searched around seeking for a place to leave mine. I found it.

Under his hand, the one resting on the rock, just beneath and on the ground below sat three totems. I set mine down gently making an even four. Four totems together in a neat little row.

I walked back to the arch and put my shoes on my feet.

~ ~ ~

Mane was not happy. “I can’t leave here. I can’t leave you.”

We sat at a public fire-pit. Colt had said everything he could and needed to. Claw soothed as best she could. The argument was going nowhere.

“I can’t leave!” He yelled before stomping off.

“I will try to talk to him,” Claw meant to stand.

“No,” Colt rasped. “He needs to realize this on his own. We will be all right.”

Mane did not come home that night.

The next afternoon he stopped only long enough to drop coins into his father’s hand. I stayed, alone with Colt in the shack. The rasping sounded worse and the coughs kept me awake most of the night.

Claw asked for news in the morning. Nothing.

“I wonder where he‘s staying?” Claw wondered.

Mane returned with more coins the following afternoon. I made myself disappear around the corner while Colt tried to talk to him.

It appeared the result had been the same when Mane stalked across the square. Claw held Colt close.

He was not that uneasy to follow, of course he didn’t expect anyone to try. A modest little hovel in another section of the city was his final destination.

A young man came out the door. He was one of us, another Bullman, but of a different tribe than Colt or myself. His coloring gave that away. He was around Mane’s age and greeted him with a lingering hug and kiss.

I was surprised.

“Oh… Foal…” Mane began before being led in.

Apparently there was another reason he did not want to leave. That could be solved, Colt would never have to know. I approached the home cautiously. I had to be easy with this, this fact. Before I could knock, I heard them.

“…I know!” It was Mane. “It‘s the same! He wants me to go, but I can’t leave him here to die!”

The was some muffled speech, quiet whispers.

“No, not you either.”

“…Petal…” The other man’s voice was simple, but strong.

“Or Petal,” Mane repeated.

I slid towards the window.

“We don’t want our children born here anymore than you do.”

“She will begin to show. What happens then?”

“Father will be happy and want me to stay, he will want to see my mate and his grandchild.”

“And me?”

“Well… yes… you…”

“It could look like me you know…”

“Hmm… we will see about that…”

“In any case, the second one might or the third...”

Mane started laughing. “Hold on! Don’t wear her out. She is my mate after all…”

“Mine too!” He laughed. “And you...”

It went quiet inside the dwelling, my head went loud with swirling thoughts. Who was mated to who? Mine? The child could be either one of theirs? What the hell?! If all three were committed in some was to each other that was very peculiar, and I had seen many odd things in my travels. But a mate, a mate was an entirely different thing. Was this something new that the young people were into? It sounded like some weird perversion that I knew would have made my father beat me or one of my siblings senseless or worse.

“Who are you?”

I froze and then turned to see a lovely young woman standing near the house with a large basket of clothes in her arms. She stared at me curiously. I didn’t know what to say. I had gone mute.

“Mane! Foal!”

The door opened and they bounded through. Shock and surprise gave way to some bit of anger.

“Are you spying on us?!?” Mane demanded.

I shook my head.

“Who is he?” Petal asked gently.

“A friend of my father’s.”

“He sent him following you!” The other one, Foal, I assumed.

“He doesn’t know…” …anything. I completed the thought in my head.

“Well, he will now…” Petal giggled and then stopped when she met with Mane’s glare.

“Then why?” Foal looked me up and down.

“Help. Maybe.”

“How?”

Petal was looking around. “Come, let’s go in. We don’t need anyone to hear our business. And I need to finish these clothes or we won‘t get paid.”

~ ~ ~

After the initial surprise and doubt, Foal seemed to understand me. Petal definitely did. Unfortunately, Mane still seemed to be having none of it.

“Don’t care,” I said for what seemed like the umpteenth time. “Colt need not know.”

Foal had been the one to confirm in as few words as possible that the three of them considered themselves indeed “mated.” It had made me feel even more of an outsider than I was, so out of touch with our changing society. I had stayed away so much for so long. There wasn’t even a word for this kind of arrangement that I knew of. They did not seem to have one either. I wondered suddenly about how things were going in the Pass.

“The real problem is with Colt sending Mane away,” Petal said gently. She folded another shirt.

“For better life. For him.” I pointed at Mane.

“I can’t leave him, or them.” Mane leaned back and shut off.

“We could go with…” Foal suggested.

“I won’t leave him to die here alone!” Mane slammed his fist into the wall. He did have the hot temper like his father after all.

“Where would we go anyway?” Petal sighed.

“With no money…” Foal put his head in his hands.

Both were right. Money could take a while, especially enough for all of us. Them. Maybe some of my old stashes could still be out there. One or two would be enough. Maybe a third. Just enough to get them started., somewhere. Where was left to go?

“The roads dangerous?”

They all looked at me.

I frowned.

~ ~ ~

The barren plains could be dangerous under any circumstances. Some of the way we would travel with troops that still patrolled. Traders and caravans would fill in some of the gaps. Even though villages had been burned down, larger cites still needed to trade and communicate. With enemy troops withdrawn from some areas, the lawlessness of the old days returned. With bandits and ruffians, safety would be in numbers.

We had said our goodbyes. Colt and Claw were both surprised by my plan and Colt was angry at first. I explained to him that to get Mane to go, I needed more money than I had thought and I hoped to come back with enough. I did not tell him any more than that. It seemed for the best he did not know the about the other traveler at all. One step at a time. Foal spent the night with Mane and Petal. I don’t know all what was said between them. I did not want to know.

I met Foal near the gates just before sunrise. He was alone, as I was. His face showed concern, a little fear, and some determination. Good. The more cautious and strong he was, the better. We found wagons being loaded. Perfect.

“You changed your clothes,” Foal said simply.

I nodded. The fine gear I had been wearing had brought a good price, enough that I could get ugly but effective pieces of light armor and a good but used sword and daggers. I felt almost like myself from long ago, when I had first started out. Foal’s short sword showed far less wear. His clothes were worn, but his light leather armor appeared solid.

When the time came, we hopped the back of the wagon of the rug peddler. Additional protection, albeit temporary, was probably all he had thought we would be.

The morning was largely uneventful. We slogged on at a regular pace sandwiched between the main river and the rocky ridges. A few peasants had joined our train on the road and a few had seemed to leave us. We would not be missed when the time came. There were still villages out there, alone, isolated, but unprotected. As for our caravan, there would be no stopping. The train of wagons needed to be within the sight of the next large city by nightfall.

We approached the break in the ridge next to us, the gap I remembered like the back of my hand. I tapped Foal. His head jerked up. I nodded. I pointed at the second of the two old trails. No one waited to join the caravan there. It looked undisturbed, deserted. I bumped Foal again and pointed at the nearest patrolman riding near us.

“Sir. Any word on the settlements down that way?” Foal asked pleasantly enough.

“No.” Was the only, gruff reply. I had suspected as much. We rode closer. Hope was what I had at this point. I jumped down easily, almost silently underneath the sound of the wagons, talk, and horses. Foal tripped and skidded into the dry soil. The only one who noticed was the guard and he only shook his head.

We walked slowly away in the sunlight. The path had begun to grow over. I hoped that because the patrol did not know of any one on this trail, no one went here anymore, hopefully not even the bandits. Hopefully, especially because we would not make it before sunset.

We walked in silence. I think Foal wanted to talk but was too intimidated. He had learned fast.

At sundown, we stopped at a small cluster of trees across from a foul smelling lake. I had no recollection the place even though I would have had to pass through the area before. If it were the same body of water I vaguely remembered, something had gone terribly wrong to have poisoned it so. I handed him some food and we sat to eat. I looked around, yes, our shadows would not be seen on the horizon among the trees or the spine of rock.

He started to grab at some sticks.

“No fire.”

He looked disappointed.

“We would be spotted.”

He sat and leaned against the tree. I could hear the winds blowing across the water, bringing a light, but putrid smell. I looked at him. I wondered. What made him do this, he come with me on the faith of hope alone. He must have believed in it, more than I. A better life for him… and the other two… Was that the most powerful reason? For them?

He caught my eye. He shook his head, not hearing the question.

“What?” He almost whispered.

“Mane, Petal…”

He looked sheepish to my eyes, the faint blush in the cheek, the downcast eye. I suddenly didn’t want to know. His attachment to them, whatever the form, was enough to make him shy and brave.

“I knew it would be strange to some like you.” Our eyes met again for a moment. “Sorry. I know it is not…” He searched for the word. “…traditional. The truth is it just happened…”

I raised my hand and waved him to stop. He did and glanced into the dark sky.

“Get some rest. I’ll take first. Wake you later.” I rolled over on my side, facing away from him to watch the horizon. It was not long before I heard him do the same.

~ ~ ~

Foal woke me at dawn. I had dreamed of what I would see further on the trail. The village that should be there but probably wasn’t. The people I had known wouldn’t be there but the memories would. As long as the stash was intact, that would be all that mattered. We began slowly ahead again. I chanced a glance briefly behind to the trees, wanting to get another look to mark the place in my head. I stopped.

“What?” Foal whispered with caution.

“I knew that place.” I faced round. From this side, the familiarity came back. I had sat under those trees before. We had sat under those trees and talked of running away, becoming heroes, and the other fancies of the young. I wiped a dry spot where a tear should have been, set my jaw, and turned to march on.

Foal did not ask, but more than once I caught him looking at me in a deep effort to understand. Maybe he did, maybe that was why he didn’t say anything.