more more more

Sylk reflected on the fact that everyone assumed The Arbiter had been eliminated. As he had walked through the crowd, he had given a dismissive “Bah” to the crowd in response to any question or solicitation from the crowd. Now Sylk realized that it had given The Arbiter the opportunity to leave and not be followed. Brilliant!

He wondered what could possibly be on those sheaves of parchment. And why were they just now called for, instead of at the beginning? More and more questions were being introduced into Sylk’s world and precious few answers. While his mind was thus occupied, his Mentor came into the hut. This startled Sylk, as he had not noticed his Mentor’s approach. And he had been trying to pay attention. Wondering when he had lost track, he decided to go to Moa’qi and ask. But, again, when he approached Moa’qi, his Mentor glided away. Disappointed, he returned to his original vantage point, and waited for The Muktai, like everyone else.

A stirring in the crowd brought him to the present, and he watched as The Muktai filed in. The first Muktai stood and announced “We will vote. Since there are four candidates, the potential exists for a tie. In such event, the persons with the most votes will remain, be that two or three people. The fourth will leave. We repeat until one man is standing.” With a smile for the crowd, and a nod to Steropé, he added, “Or woman.”

He then formally addressed the crowd, “Tribe, I of The Muktai select The Arbiter.”
The next Muktai stood and stated, “Tribe, I of The Muktai select Steropé.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select The Arbiter.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select The Herbalist.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select Buitre.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select Steropé.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select Buitre.”

The first Muktai stated “Herbalist, you are not selected.”

Visibly relived, and heaving a sigh of release, The Herbalist rose and eagerly joined the crowd. The Muktai all filed into a different room to re-haggle the vote.

The mood in the Deciding Hut was changed. The crowd had caught its second wind. The tension and excitement was palpable. They would have a First Chair soon, and it would be of these three. As the field narrowed, alliances were shifting. While The Arbiter was still far and away considered the most obvious candidate, he was no longer touted as the obviously better candidate. Both Buitre and Steropé were beginning to have their champions. No one really knew how this was going to turn out, which was a far cry from the morning common wisdom that Moa’qi held an automatic lock on the position. Many felt a sense of ‘good riddance’ toward The Herbalist. Others were dismayed at the fact The Arbiter had not been an obvious choice, and was currently in a three-way tie.

A hush fell as The Muktai filed back in. The ritual proceeded as before, each Muktai in turn calling out their selection.

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select The Arbiter.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select Steropé.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select The Arbiter.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select The Arbiter.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select Buitre.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select Steropé.”

“Tribe, I of The Muktai select Buitre.”

The first Muktai stated “Steropé, you are not selected.”

Before she could move from her seat, The second Muktai stated “Buitre, you are not selected.”

Before he or she could move from their seats, the third Muktai bellowed to the room, “Tribe, First Chair; The Muktai summon the Moa’qi and The Nominees to the Deciding Hut at once.” As one they rose and went to the center alcove. Buitre and Steropé sat in some confusion while the New First Chair rose and gave direction to people standing nearby. Runners were dispatched to retrieve the nominees and Moa’qi. Meanwhile, he and Buitre and Steropé brought the chairs of the Nominees into the center Alcove. Sylk and The Herbalist, who were still in the Deciding Hut, were pressed into service to arrange the seating.

The chairs were arranged in a stylized manner. There were three rows, alternating three chairs, five chairs and three chairs. The middle row was extended to allow for more or less even spacing. The top chair of the middle column faced down that column toward the next. That faced the same direction as did the next two. The last face back toward the head. The two outer columns were mirrors of each other. The top two faced each other. The next two face each other as well. The bottom two however were angled such that they faced the very bottom chair of the middle column. The middle column was spaced such that the outer columns could see each other without impediment.

As the Summoned Ones came into the Central Alcove, First Chair ordered the Deciding Hut cleared. This was an unpopular pronouncement. Unrest seethed through the hut. It was late, people had not eaten, it was Deepest Dark out, and the curiosity of the Tribe was bordering on insurrection. Cooler heads managed to clear the hut, but the hubbub outside seemed to just get worse. Inside the Deciding Hut, the mood was a combination of grim and confused, excited and worried.

Buitre asked, of no one in particular, “Why is Moa’qi here? You summoned the Nominees.”

First Chair replied, “Moa’qi was the first Nominee, nominated by you Buitre.”
Buitre opened his mouth, closed it.

Sylk could feel the crowd outside growing more and more restless. He commented to the room that the Tribe seemed angry. Moa’qi spoke up, saying, “Yes, Sylk, we all hear them, but cooler heads will prevail.” Until that moment no one had been paying much attention to the crowd noise, as they were occupied with impending events inside the hut. Had Moa’qi not commented on the noise, and caused everyone to focus, they probably would not have noticed the change in the crowd, and heard Gwadi’s rhyming.
Gwadi, fearing the worst, had determined to make an effort at crowd control. She was waddling about under the burden of an enormous basket of cheese, in itself presenting a comical sight. She had robbed her stores and had virtually any kind of cheese someone might ask for. She walked through the crowd, waving pungent chunks of cheese under the noses of the hungry people. At first she was reduced to just pressing hunks of cheese into people’s hands, bidding them, “Eat!” Finally people’s hunger, aroused by their olfactory sense, crowded out any sense of outrage, and they began clamoring for this or that type of cheese. Responding to her captive audience, she began singing a kind of sing-song rhyme, somewhat suggestive as all her rhymes were, and of course somewhat diverting.

“Thootr Thootr
“Rhymes with Hooter
“How could anything else be cuter
“Than a bright red rigid Thootr?”

day aftermath

Haven't typed anymore on the story, but here is an excerpt:

“In fact, sirs, I only know that Moa’qi has a reason. I do not know the reason as he would not tell me. He did explain that it would make sense at the end of the day.”

The next Muktai in order addressed him, “Sylk, why did you accept the nomination?”

“Sirs, the answer to that is very like the first.”

The next Muktai actually stood and asked, “Sylk, do you expect to be elected?”

“Sirs, I do not expect to be elected. In point of fact, I think that would be a grave mistake. I have no credibility, and there would be chaos.”

The next Muktai passed on his question, as did the next. The sixth then addressed Sylk, “Sylk, you are talented and wise. One day you will be First Chair. I foresee this. If, that is, you remain with The Tribe. That eventuality is not seen in my cards.” Mumbling low to himself he added, “Which means that you exercise considerable control over your destiny.” Louder and to the room as a whole, he added, “Today, you are not elected. Return to the crowd.” The seventh and final Muktai simply stood, and began the procession out into the main room.

Sylk followed, and kept walking past the remainder of the nominees, and into the crowd. Nodding to his mother, he kept on going out one of the entrances. He wanted to find Moa’qi, have a word, and be back in time for to witness who was among the final for the vote. Each nominee would be questioned in turn. If any one of The Muktai felt they had potential, they would return to their seats, and await either more questioning, or the actual vote. Each round of questioning could result in a narrowing of the field. Sylk felt he had plenty of time, as he perceived at least two legitimate possible First Chairs, and at least one, maybe two wild cards. Homing in on his Mentor, he broke into a trot, full of questions.

As he went running, he detected that Moa’qi went running also, but away from him! Sylk stopped, and Moa’qi stopped. Sylk started again, and Moa’qi walked away as well. Sylk angled to intercept, and his Mentor changed course to avoid. Stopping again, this time his Mentor kept walking, but in no hurry, and sort of randomly. Sylk squatted and attempted to decipher what was happening. His Mentor must know he was trying to meet him. He could read the sign better than Sylk could. It could not be happenstance that he had maintained the same distance from him for the last several moments. Tardily he came to the realization that Moa’qi did not want to meet with him at this moment. He stood and turned back toward the Deciding Hut. He would watch the selection continue, and trust to Moa’qi to contact him when it was time.

After the first few steps, he realized that Moa’qi was shadowing him back to the Hut. Evidently his Mentor wanted to remain close, but not too close. This relieved Sylk somewhat, and so he focused his attention on the Deciding Hut, and by the time he could confirm with his eyes, he knew what progress had been made. As he entered the hut, he watched The Tanner meld into the crowd, and Vela Maker summoned to one of the rooms. The Herbalist was sitting on his stool. Buitre would be next, followed by Steropé and finally The Arbiter.

In Sylk’s estimation of things, The Herbalist was one wild card for First Chair and Steropé was the other possibility. True candidates he had decided were Buitre and The Arbiter. He watched as the Vela Maker returned after a brief moment, and entered the crowd. Buitre was summoned, and disappeared into an alcove with The Muktai. They stayed and stayed. A request for water was received and water was delivered. The crowd began to be restless, wondering why the delay. Buitre emerged at last, looking drawn. He took his stool, and Steropé was called. She disappeared into the next room, and was gone for approximately twice as long as what Sylk estimated his time had been. She also sat down and The Arbiter was called.

Unless something truly odd happened, Sylk reckoned that The Arbiter would join the other three, and then there may be a vote. Of course, The Muktai may choose to subject each to additional interviews.

The Arbiter emerged after only a few moments. This seemed odd, because he should be a prime candidate, and they should have a lot to ask of him. But, the Arbiter not only left the room, he walked past the other nominees, and left the Hut! The crowd was silenced until the Criers announced the news. A general sense of consternation pervaded the air of the Deciding Hut. The crowd was uneasy, and the folks outside were getting restless. Of the three candidates, there were those with strong objections to some or all.

Buitre was a solid member of the tribe, but it was acknowledged that he desired power. The Herbalist was simply not liked. Steropé was, well, a woman. The Tribe was a bit unnerved, having expected and been looking forward to Moa’qi and willing to fall back on The Arbiter. There seemed to be no consensus on the current nominees. It seemed that regardless of whom was picked, much of the Tribe would be unhappy.

The Muktai emerged from their room. Usually they all came out at the same time as the nominee, but the exit of The Arbiter had so distracted they crowd that they were unaware The Muktai had not emerged. This caused a nervous stir among the crowd. None of the older members could ever remember such a strange Deciding Hut. A lady to Sylk’s left commented, “How very very weird. Suppose The Herbalist is named First Chair. His first official act will be to decide on the conflict between The Herbalist and Gwadi! How is he going to do that?” There were murmurs of acknowledgment to this comment, and it traveled around the room, becoming such a prevalent topic that one of the Criers actually shouted it out to the crowd waiting outside.

“Silence!” Bellowed the Muktai on the far left. “The Arbiter has not been eliminated. He has asked for brief recess while he gathers some information he says The Muktai need for the decision process. When he returns, the selection process continues.” He sat amid sounds of dismay and disbelief. Many common proceedings were being set aside, or bent to what some felt were past the breaking point. The level of anxiety became palpable.

The Arbiter returned, carrying sheaves of parchment. He handed these to the Card Reader, and The Muktai, without the nominees, went to the middle alcove for conference.

They were gone a really long time.

more later!

For now, I am off to THE HUNT!!

Day 30, this am; 50,096

I did it!!

No, it's not actually finished yet. Pretty close. Probably will be in another 1000 words or so.

Excerpts later. Woo hoo!

Day 28, am, total word count, 47,549; 2083 this morning

well, I don't see how I can't get to 50 k by the 30th. I'd have to deliberately not do it.

The story won't be finished at 50k, I don't think. I need about another 5k to wrap it up.

excerpt:

When they had a moment of relative privacy, Moa’qi allowed himself a small congratulation. “Two wild cards came through there, Sylk. The Sacred One, and Steropé. Very nicely it did play. This afternoon we see if our plans bear fruit.

“Go see your mother. She will be looking for you.”

On the trip back to his hut, he found his mother walking along, talking to Gwadi. He greeted them, hugging his mother and smiling at Gwadi. His mother was congratulating Gwadi on her nomination of The Herbalist, but asked, “Do you think this will heal the rift?”

“No, it is just a start. But all things take time. Rushing things only spoils them. I should know.” She turned to Sylk, “How you holding up? Must seem odd being nominated…” She let it hang there, seeing if he would take the bait.

“I’m as surprised as anyone. Frankly, it seems to be to be a wasted nomination. No one is going to vote for a man barely out of trial for First Chair. I have no track record, no influence, no – credibility.”

Gwadi scanned his face, looking for clues as to his mindset. She was unable to find any, and this caused her to comment, “Maybe, maybe not. You are more assured than you should be. Which means you know something, or are very composed.”

She smiled at Anuncia, “Pardon on old cheese making fool. I’m just very used to looking at things and judging their readiness. He’s readier than most would suspect.” With that she turned down the path leading to her hut, and Sylk and Anuncia walked on, arm in arm. They did not talk, the time for talking was through. They walked alone with their thoughts, each with a concern about the upcoming vote, and the aftermath. They would just have time for a midday snack, and then it would be back to the deciding hut for the separate evaluations, and the vote.

Anuncia prepared a simple meal of bread and cheese, and they washed it down with water. Sylk then changed into less worn, more appropriate garments, a kind of cover up over his chest, and a longer more concealing breechclout. Suitably attired, he joined his mother, who he noted had taken time to change into a red and orange wrap, with flashes of green. He stopped and stared, trying to determine if it was just coincidence. “Come along, Sylk. What are you gawking at?”

“Mother, I have not seen that wrap before. But it reminds me of something from my trial. Where did you get it?”

Her eyes distant, Anuncia replied, “Your father designed it and had it made after his trial. He kept it until we married, then he presented it to me.”

‘After his trial?’, thought to himself. “Mother, who did Father’s Stand and Watch?”

“Jedediah himself.”

Sylk was quiet after this, his mind whirling through the possibilities. Their arrival at Center Village crowded out all other thoughts, and he collected himself, went inside to center stage, and took his former seat. Steropé came in and Sylk noted that she had also dressed for the occasion. She came up to him, shook his hand, and complimented his garb. Suddenly feeling flush, Sylk stammered a response, noting that she was very pretty. That was not what he meant to say, it had just come out, and was reduced to just sitting there looking up at her foolishly. Steropé laughed and thanked him, said she didn’t know he had noticed, turned away and, was that an exaggerated wiggle?, took her seat at the opposite end.

Sylk didn’t really notice anyone else coming in, he just sat staring at the dirt in front of him. He barely got through the reconvening of the Deciding Hut, and allowed himself to just be carried along with the flow of the events. He did not actually fully return mentally to the Deciding Hut until his name was called to go into one of the chambers off the main stage.

Single file, The Muktai filed off center stage and entered the first alcove. Sylk followed, trying to bring his head back into the game. He focused on listening with his feet, and identifying the various players of note within and without the hut. Strange, Moa’qi was not in the Deciding Hut. This revelation snapped his mind to where he was, and the plans unfolding even now. He caught sign of his Mentor on the edge of the village, coming in to the Hut. Where had he been off to? Sylk was now angry at himself, and sent his memory racing, trying to determine where his Mentor had gone, and when.

Bitterly, he realized that he had been so caught up with Steropé that he had no memory. Filing this fact away, he focused on being where he was now. All The Muktai took their seats, and Sylk stood front and center.

The Muktai that had summoned him after his nomination began The Query. “Sylk, why were you nominated?”