The Comfort of Old Friends

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The next morning, on a fuller stomach, and treating her new little four-legged friend to the warm stew and bread, Zaria prepared to set out in the direction of the smoke fires she had seen. She recalled with much hope the people from this vicinity who had helped her and her group escaping Sharvur's kingdom the previous summer. She remembered them feeding Branka, Tsudros and herself while Moshtok was alone somewhere out in the wilds hiding. The Hamanti, as the tribe called itself, had given them no harm, housed them, supplied them with essentials, and sent them on their way to the West. Most poignantly, she remembered how their tribal hunters had seen Moshtok hiding in the forest—the one they called "The Stranger." And she recalled most emotionally how they willingly took the three of them out to their comrade to be rescued.

The hospitality and vital information of these generous people shared had led to the reunited couples' successful trek homeward—how they had finally crossed the plains into the safety of her Slavic Walesha. If only she could locate these villagers again, Zaria wished. She was certain she had reached the general area of the tribe, and possibly several other villages of which she was less confident, and actually feared. There was clearly no reason to trust the others, and she was aware of her vulnerability. It was, after all, as she painfully remembered, closer to her Slavic territories that she and Branka were sexually molested by several roguish men of her own ethnicity.

The little dog, whom Zaria now called "Divan"—her Slavic word for "adorable," had fortunately learned of the importance of traveling quietly. From an early age such animals were at the mercy of raiders, nomads, and tribes of the plains who would simply eat any creatures they could capture from surrounding peoples. Divan trotted along close to Zaria's feet. He somehow knew instinctively that she would now be unfailing in her efforts to sustain him.

By that late that evening, Zaria and Divan had rested on a hill looking across a small valley at the stone-walled village she was certain was that of the Hamani. She even recalled the priestess's name—Kani, who had introduced herself, Branka and Tsudros to their benevolent queen. Knowing the extreme vigilance taken in these wilds by such tribes and their protective sentries, fully armed and quick to strike, Zaria felt that this time, near darkness, would not be the best to re-enter the town.

That evening she removed the fortuitous supplies she had wrapped in the wide blanket obtained from the dead Jin warriors, and used it to cover herself and Divan. It would provide a welcome protection against to night's cool air. It was Zaria's prudent plan to hike up as visibly as possible to the city's gate in the bright morning sun.

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The next day, making her way across the valley and up the steep hill to the strategic position of the Hamani, Zaria stood at the closed, walled-city gate. A poised observer atop the wall soon shouted for her interception by several men who were patrolling outside these perimeters. As before, there was a serious language disconnect with these people, yet Zaria used the universal open-hands gesture to show no malicious intent to them. The guards stood before her and inquisitively looked at the beautiful young woman with the decorated arms.

An obvious question in a foreign tongue was presented to her, and Zaria responded with a hand on her chest in supplication, and an expression of thanks with the word "Hamani."

The two fur-clad men had not drawn their swords, but simply stood and waited for more information. Little Divan cowered behind Zaria's legs, himself waiting for some insurance of détente.

"Kani . . . thelo," she said, making a request as best she could to see the girl Kani, whom she remembered as a high ranking priestess.

The two athletic men looked again at each other blankly and then made a distinctive loud whistle. This signaled the heavy wooden gate to be pulled open. Zaria was encouraged to follow one of the sentries into the center of the many stone houses to a more central, two-story structure which she remembered as being the seat of power to the tribe.

Upon several words called out toward the building by the guard, a door eventually opened and out walked three women—two seeming to be attendants and the one whom Zaria easily recognized as none other than Kani, whom she had met formerly.

As the three females left the structure's doorway and stepped out closer into the bright sunlight, Zaria observed Kani, dressed in a radiant red cape and dress, smiled and held out her open hands. This thankfully signaled to her the young woman indeed recognized this vagabond from some past encounter.

The priestess said several words of greeting in Zaria's Slavic language and smiled again in greeting. As Zaria moved forward with Divan, she bowed slightly and took Kani's hand for several seconds, acknowledging their informal reunion.

Following a motion for Zaria to follow her to the doorway, the two younger black-attired attendants made an imperative sign that the animal which accompanied her would have to remain outside the queen's residence. Zaria pointed to a spot in front of one of the columns flanking the doorway, and the little dog grudging lay down at the intended place.

Inside Zara was taken immediately to a back room where a throne chamber existed, well lit by torches. There was no one in the cubicle at the time and one of the attendants quickly went into another room, ostensibly to alert the queen of Zaria's presence. In no time, a familiar older woman appeared, wearing once again her spectacular royal dress of bird feathers—brilliant blue and white. She did not have the golden jewelry Zaria had also remembered this high official had worn before, but was delighted the leader was willing to entertain her request, whatever it might be.

Priestess Kani mentioned something to the queen in their native tongue and the older, more regal woman simply nodded in understanding. A friendly smile broke out on the woman's face and she attemptedd in a broken-Slavic-Pazyrak hybrid to ask if Zaria had ever made it to her homeland, now clearly one year later.

Zaria smiled and told her that she had. She once again placed her hand upon her heart to show the reverence and appreciation for what the queen had provided to make it possible. After some difficult, almost futile attempts at explaining her current situation, her desire to go back to the Pazyryk nation, Zaria emphasized it was all in an effort to rescue her still-enslaved sister. By dint of the young priestess' facility with the two foreign languages Zaria knew, the situation was eventually understood by the empathetic and patient leader of the Hamani. It was then offered that Zaria would once again be provided a place to stay in the home of one of the attendants for two days, while she regained her undernourished health and would be given enough supplies, as before, to return to her bold plan.

As Zaria and Divan were led across the village complex to the small stone structure of one of the attendants, she looked out and once again witnessed the life of the thriving settlement, with a division of labor and people attending in the distance to domesticated livestock. And as before, she saw men and women working in harmony with no outward signs of warfare as a dominant means of existence. It would be hard, finding these methods of life so similar to her own upbringing, to then leave in several days in search of a nomadic kingdom where life was much harder, threatening, and Zaria's memories would undoubtedly be returned to sorrow.

As much as she tied to avoid it, by waking several times in the warmth of her surrogate home that night, Zaria dreamed of being back in Sharvur's court. In these ill reveries she found herself once again loathing the announcement that she would have to appear in Sharvur's bed chamber for the long and tortuous night. It was only her hope in the morning, recovering from those nightmares, that as she had heard, the cruel king had once more been deposed, and his former dynasty was once again in disarray.

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