The Totem-Maker (part fifty-five)

The Totem-Maker

Chapter Six

A First Road

(part fifty-five)

She peered for a glimpse of sun, and pointed. “There is a great city not on this map, an island of the south. Very near the shore, bridged by land when the tide is low. That realm is feared by everyone…their ships are fast, faster and far more seaworthy than this.”

I saw only the swell and rushing lacework of white foam. Sometimes, as the skins that sheltered me hung low, I failed to see, and got a slap of saltwater in my eyes. Also dizziness would upset my stomach, and only sinking back into my little darkness restored me. But I made it one of my tasks to stand and walk, to acclimate my feet.

The view opposite held interest.

Our way was not straight, but followed the coast, our fleet well out. For (as Egdoah had me to understand) currents made by sea-devils, whose kingdom was fathoms deep, had strength to draw even a large ship abeam, her rowers helpless to right her. The Prince’s legions returned to the port of Hezhnia, a city aligned with Monsecchers…if a cloud-road, as the gods use, could cross this sea.

They spoke another language, the Hezhnians. But spoke many languages, Egdoah said. They were conquered and gave tribute to the Emperor. Their harbor curved on the map like an implement our orchard-keepers use to snap twigs hung with fruit. My knowledge of things pictured it so, and I gave the name to Egdoah.

“Cimbel. There is a bird that lives only among the gods, above the great mountain Ami, who dwarfs his son Lotoq. But Ami is quiet and kind, as no human sets foot there. We have a story how this came to be.”

I spoke too much and too quickly, as I would. But these two sayings, there is a bird (my finger and thumb flapping to make one), and we have a story, were not difficult. The northerners’ word for bird was juta…and so it seemed to me I had got the meaning of my servant’s name. You will know this pleased her ill.

“And what do you say for moon, Egdoah?”

I drew a crescent in the air.

He bowed his head, and told me, Chos.

“Is Chos a powerful or a vengeful god?” I asked Jute.

“You will never make a journey in your life if Chos despises you.”

Make, at all, or succeed at…I could not pursue this. I had promised Egdoah a story.

“The moon, Egdoah, once always showed his face, as does the sun. In a green land, where night was nearly as day, lived a princess whose name was Escmar. Escmar had a gift from her grandmother…”

I gestured for Egdoah’s patience, that also of the young soldiers who waited to have their fortunes cast. I pulled an orb from my basket, and spun the milky stone, showing its blues and yellows.

59

A First Road

The Totem-Maker (part fifty-six)

(2018, Stephanie Foster)