The Seven Wives : Complete

prologue

Prologue

He stood firm while forcing his shoulders to ease, trying to show indifference as he let his eyes roam the opening ready to swallow him. His muscular legs ached from the distance taken to get here, suns rose and set with their trek taking them closer to their destination.

As if this was the gateway, the vines had parted creating an arc, a slight opening visible to only those who knew where it is. His eyes roamed the wall created by the trees, they looked too similar in height and width one would simply go mad following the rows looking for the passage way.

There was an easier path but that would have them treking for another moon cycle( month) southwards. This was shorter the gods had tested them once during their initiation to adulthood and the jungle would gladly allow them back in. This would lead them to his village north eastern borders where the great forest stopped and civilization thrived. He saw the people around him sigh in relief they had made it this far and it was only the gods that stood between them and their home a feat that wasn't always easy.

He turned his back to the gateway, the wise elders once said a man who looks behind him forsakes fate, at some point during the journey as his mind reminded him of where he had left, his feet dug a little bit deeper into the desert sand begging him to turn back. The stars seemed to have been thinking the same, shooting out like fire flies from corners to corners daring him to make a wish he knew they couldn't fulfill as he stared on at the vastness of the heavens his gaze always following them east to the coast.

Nights spent walking under the bright moonlight that gave one favorable visibility unlike the harsh sun that seemed to want to roast you alive. He smiled at the moon again, it is true, he thought his mother always said the moon was feminine, gentle to its people while the sun was a man constantly chasing the moon like all the husbands wanting to make her feel its wrath but the heavens were strange, they separated them, letting them get glimpse of each other, enough to keep their love standing and the chase going. He chuckled remembering how his father rubbished those old wives tales but he could see it in his eyes, his father always had the suns wrath.

He sighed again looking at his mates, they had gone ahead welcoming the growing flora, from shrubs he remembered a fortnight ago the border between the two environments, now fully fledged eucalyptus trees stood in front of them, a good sign, the first sight of water had the men running to quench their thirst even the animals seemed to trot faster, he should remind them of the value of goods they carried but he felt less eager do so. If they were to be ruined the faster he can venture out again to replace them.

what were they so excited about. he wondered it wasn't the water.

He watched them leap into the stream, splashing it like children some stripping to take a swim happiness radiating from them like the sun's rays. It definitely wasn't the water.

Women, he scoffed no they were still not yet bound to anyone, they had the luxury of coming across many from their journeys and he may have staggered a little bit from his ways, but such is a life for a man. Never to be restricted or bound by anything on the mortal world.

Traditions seemed to make the women he knew docile and meek a thing he refused to marry. He didn't want a slave, he wanted what he had heard from the converts he had come across, a companion from their holy texts made for every man from his ribs. Though it seemed ridiculous he spent his nights touching his chest to make sure he had all of them or maybe a witch managed to extract one when he was too caught up at the promise of an after life in a land of milk and honey.

Women. he came to realize were better off not forced into submission. He found them quite willing when he pursed a few coins, something that he fears wouldn't be the same up ahead. He mentally prepared himself for celibacy and another groan left him either that or marry.  He scoffed preferring the former.

Taking a sip of the water upstream from where the animals now untied of the luggage began to splash silly. Letting the coolness touch his throat, he went to his waist removing the water pouch and poured his earlier drink that had been boiled now from the suns heat, he didn't bother to fill it up. There were plenty of fresh water from now on. He crouched down splashing some on his face, his bundled beard fully grown needed more wetting before he could penetrate his sun burned skin.

Unfortunately, the desert did have its misfortunes, even if he was to turn back, he would starve or thirst to death and the sly sand would simply cover him, hiding all traces of his being. then who would mourn for him, certainly not his father.

He exhaled loudly hiding a groan, such was a life of a trader to travel and seek freedom then why did he feel confined as he walked in. his legs seemed to still protest, the vines purposely tripping him. he glared at the roots which had formed patterns on the ground, criss crossing from one point to another. Disappearing into the bushes. He followed the trail trying to find the tree that seemed to frustrate his return.

He gave up when he heard the forest come to life, ancient trees that have seen many venture out and never return tower greater the deeper he got. Did they grow taller or is it my eyes, he thought reluctantly having to tilt his head to see the end. flowers and vines hanged on them trying their best to reach the sunlight, some coiling tightly around them as if trying to suffocate the trees would allow them to get more sunlight.

The birds chirped louder as he passed by probably asking why he returned. His heavy footing left the grainy sand to much damp clay sinking in just a bit at the squish sound under his toes, the thickness of the jungle clumping together, darkening as they got further, he couldn't even see the sky now and as if the nocturnal creatures thought it was already night time they came out to play.

The chirping stopped, and only their breathing could be heard. The men huffed trying to maneuver the difficult terrain full of slippery mud that made him guess it had rained recently. It normally isn't this wet during this time even the worms seemed to be running away from the ground below. He began to get worried, if the rains had come this late then they needed to work on moving faster.

He looked ahead frowning as the men cut down overgrown bamboos and ferns with the machetes trying to get back their original foot path. Some men dragged and Pushed the horses, great he scratched his beard watching them pull a stubborn horse through a slippery slope. He moved out of its way he didn't want to go home but his father would surely laugh if his death was brought about by a horse collapsing on him. He shuddered thinking of the songs that women would compose of him. they would mock even his grave. A man should only die in battle else he isn't a real man. His fathers mocking tone came to him as he stayed behind keeping his ears open.

The band was made up of about ten, five alone struggling with the horse and the others clutching on the less stubborn ones. He was the only one not doing much, he could help but he was more concerned about their safety.

He huffed remembering his uncle's wise analogies. 'The jaguar is always on the hunt, but its eyes betray him.'

How could one miss that. They were as bright as the sun, but still that didn't mean he needed its eyes to see you, once it got a good whiff of the fear in you it would stalk you. wait for you to set up camp and go to sleep then it would probably attack the horse. It was bigger and meatier. Those animals weren't stupid after all.

Stepping on a branch he almost stilled , the silence was disturbing him. He swung his sword in front of him just to be sure but he knew he couldn't die alone but still he probably looked like the easiest kill. He considered himself a merchant than a warrior. he had no aggressive bone in his body and was as calm as they could get. No wonder his father was always displeased, a wanderer for a son, guess it was true fire births ashes.

Women, we're coming home

Bringing gifts from the sea

Mirrors from the Waters's

We've trekked the great forest

To the land beyond the borders

Fought in it's battles

Like warriors of the gods

Now were coming home

Alive but alone

Won't you wait for me.

The men began to chant and the tension left him slightly. They sung the song bringing some type of psyche as they pulled all the horses up the first of many steep slopes, indeed he was coming home.