We shall see.
excerpt:
Sylk had not expected this, and sat down, hoping the rest would follow suit, giving him time to think. Gratefully, he watched as Moa’qi and Tracker3 immediately sat, and were then joined by Tracker1 and Tracker2.ciao baby, got to mambo.
Choosing his words carefully, he began, “I am not understanding why I am the only suitable apprentice for The Herbalist.” As there was no response, he continued, “Also, I am unsure why this seems to be the best tack to alleviating the tension between Gwadi and The Herbalist. Sure, he may be distracted, but it seems to me that Gwadi overplayed her hand. Since she rarely does or says anything without fully understanding the repercussions, it seems to me that she desires this discomfort.”
There was some silence and some uneasy shifting by the men. Tracker1 started to speak, “You meddle in things…”, but was cut off by Tracker3, “You are a perceptive one. Yes, Gwadi’s actions were deliberate. But, The Muktai do not agree with her. While The Herbalist is the one visibly upset, Gwadi is the one potentially in trouble with the Tribe.”
“Still, this is not really appropriate to discuss with a youth.”
Moa’qi stood abruptly, gathered his things and began to walk off. He did not offer any ritual departure nicety, nor did he look back. Sylk, his face red from the insult, quickly gathered up his things and hurried after him. He also did not look back. Tracker2 and Tracker3 gave withering looks to Tracker1, and turned from him to gather up their own belongings. Tracker1 looked uncomprehendingly at the two other trackers, then at the vanishing figures of Sylk and Moa’qi. He stood and looked at the Trackers, and asked, “What?”
Derisively, Tracker2 said over his shoulder as he walked away, “Sylk completed his trial. In fact, he looks downright healthy after a month in the wild. I remember your dead ass dragging in from your trial. You nearly died out there. And, he has been apprenticed to the premier man of the Tribe.” Snorting, then spitting, he finished, “You called him a youth.”
The two Trackers walked on and did not look back. Tracker1 finally understood. He had insulted a New Man and a Warrior of the People. He had called a Man that had successfully completed his trial, a youth. It was about the only insult that could not be taken back. He stood there, rapidly becoming alone, and pondered his options. Truly, he had not meant to insult. He was not really about all that. He hung his head down, and looked at the ground.
Meanwhile, Sylk, reeling from the insult, walked silently beside Moa’qi. Something about the whole thing really disturbed him. It took him about 200 paces to sort it out. This was not good, and it was not to anyone’s benefit. He looked up at Moa’qi, and made that observation aloud. His Master surprised him with a huge smile and a clap on the shoulder. “Yes, that is very true. So, the question becomes, who can fix it and how?” Sylk stopped and looked back from where they had come. He raised his arms slightly, spear in one hand, as if to say, “What can I do?”
Interpreting the gesture correctly, Moa’qi replied, “Remember, in the Tale of Moab and the Seven Virgins, when he meets with Pittacus of Mytilene?”
“I’m not sure I’ve heard that verse.”
“No? That’s odd. Here, I’ll give you the Maxim. The entire verse you will learn later. Pittacus stated that ‘forgiveness is better than repentance’.”
Sylk understood immediately, and turned back on the trail. He would go to Tracker1, and they would have a meeting of the minds. He stopped himself though, remembering The Other in the wilderness, the strangely dead/inert One. “Master, on my run I came across what I believe to be the male Other that injured the woman.” Moa’qi stiffened, and took Sylk by the shoulder. “Where?”
Using the Flora/Fauna game, he whistled the location markers, knowing that would be the fastest way to explain. Then he added, quietly, as the other Trackers approached. “He’s – dead. At least I think so. He was badly burned, one leg beyond recognition, almost gone. Yet…”, he hesitated, not knowing how to explain, “he was – strange. Frozen. Not cold. No heat. I – I couldn’t touch him.”
Moa’qi looked intently at him, listening carefully. He was nodding absently, and when Sylk finished he just looked up, then back toward where the body was. Seeming to come to a decision of some sort, he looked back down at Sylk and said, “Do what you must. I will see you in the village tomorrow.”
Sylk looked at him, “Tomorrow?”
“Go!”
Sylk went.
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