Chapter 7

Zuri watched the village swell as the market drew in people from all directions. What had been tens of people had become hundreds. True to his word, Leniz sold off every head of his flock although his byzantine method of coin and barter left Zuri scratching his head in confusion.

When Olabe refused to come out of the temple, Zuri set up shop with Leniz’s encouragement. He blessed animals. He, blessed several newborns and consecrated a marriage. When the market closed, he had the makings of a journey into the wilderness. No one had coin for him. Instead, they would drop dried fruits, hard tack, and nuts in his provisions bag. At least he would not starve.

“We can leave tomorrow,” Leniz said, slapping Zuri on the back. The blow was not weak. “My herd is spread to the four winds, which will enrich the bloodlines for the foreseeable future. To celebrate, I held back the weakest of the lot and gave her to the butcher to slaughter for tonight. Tonight, we will feast with friends and family, gorging ourselves on the moment of fulfilling my commitments to our ancestors.”

“Sounds grand,” Zuri said. “Is everyone else as excited as you are to retire your herd?”

“Jealous is what they are,” Leniz said. “They want the freedom to explore Fundazioa, but the obligations of home and hearth are too important to walk away from them. Even our old Gura is envious, locking himself in the temple on a market day. Better to fill your sack, I suppose.”

“I think our Gura is either praying for a quick death for himself or the Gura-sho,” Zuri said. “He is a broken man, morose and probably embittered.” He paused. “Does he understand the Old Folk?”

“He still tries,” Leniz said. “However, he remembers his past and his choices the way he wants, and the Old Folk remember otherwise. We have spent too much time worrying about an old man who will not take responsibility for himself or others. Let’s go argue with the butcher and finagle a roasting pit from one of the local families. A good feast requires preparation.”

They did. The feast was a drunken fest of which Zuri had only hazy memories the next morning. No one had warned him how strong the local brew was. The herb they smoked also had a mildly intoxicating effect, which hit Zuri hard later that night. As he lay on a pallet staring up at the sky, the stars marched across the sky. Was there order in the heavens or not? He did not find a resolution but saw parallels to his journey thus far. He awoke at dawn.

Someone shoved a piece of flatbread in his hand, pointing to the ubiquitous bowl of bean paste that followed him everywhere he traveled in Qirin. He scooped up the spiced paste and drank deeply from the ladle of water. The sun was almost completely above the horizon when they shouldered their packs and left, heading westward.

By midday, they had walked without stopping or even speaking much. A dark line emerged from the west where the sky kissed the land. The further they walked, the thicker the line became. As they approached closer, Zuri identified the line as a long straight cliff that stretched from one end of the world to the mountains in the north.

“Is that Fundazioa?” Zuri asked.

“You cannot miss it,” Leniz said. “A place of legend the whole of the world knows but few have ever seen. Gura Olabe has seen it from a distance, but he has never ascended its height. Gentlemen adventurers never bother to come, too much of an adventure or not romantic enough for that lot. Last night, we could not remember the last time a man came to ascend Fundazioa who was not Old Folk.”

“Never have I seen such geography,” Zuri said. “The plain is black rock, and it is a line from one end to the next.”

“Some say it was a great lava flow from an ancient past, but we Old Folk know it was our ancestors who spread out the Plain in every direction to make room for themselves and to set themselves apart from the other peoples of the world.”

“Either way, I am in awe,” Zuri said.

“Wait until you have to climb that wall,” Leniz said. “Save your breath for it.”

They reached the bottom of the great height in the late afternoon. After hemming and hawing for a bit, Leniz finally ascertained that the trail heading upwards was northward. As the light of day began to weaken, Leniz pointed to the trail heading upwards. Zuri was shaken by the carved stairs in the rock; he was not expecting a sign of civilization. They camped at the base of the trail overnight at a site that appeared well used.

They climbed with the morning light. At midday, they stopped on a ledge to gnaw on some tack and drink water. Zuri looked back to the east. The land running due east looked like a series of plaid fabric squares with white threads running along the edges.

“There are many more fields and orchards out there than I could see from the road,” Zuri said. “Where were all these people when I was walking through the land?”

“The Old Folk keep an eye on everything and everyone that makes their way into Qirin,” Leniz said. “We have abided here an uncountable number of generations, tending the land and its people. Others cannot see us even when they look because we have become the land. God is a given and we abide.”

“Such a sight gives me comfort,” Zuri said. “Everything out there looks stable and enduring.”

“Looks can be deceiving, Gura,” Leniz said. “We’re proud enough to be haughty and vain enough in our history to trip over any old stone in the road. We have crooks, thieves, whores, and downtrodden pits of despair. The difference is we have fewer of such people than the rest of the Kingdom.”

“You are not deceived by the machinations of the established Guras,” Zuri guessed.

“Let ‘em starve or at least, sweat mightily for an honest coin,” Leniz said. “Serves them right.”

“How lowly my aspirations seeking vengeance are when you are doling out justice and doing it well,” Zuri said.

“I wouldn’t discount your goals,” Leniz said. “Look out upon the face of Qirin and see what can be accomplished. You may not be thinking large enough as you look at the Guras across the whole of the Kingdom.”

Zuri snorted, shaking his head in amazement at the audacity of Leniz’s statement.

The two men continued climbing. Another hour’s climb and they came to two carved pillars of black stone on either side of the trail. Zuri stepped through and stood in wonder again as the plain spread out before him. The first sight confirmed the name of The Forsaken Plain, for there was little beyond scrub to be seen.

“There are people living here?” Zuri asked “How?”

“Aye, maybe a few temporary homesteads beyond First Homestead,” Leniz said. “Some wandering lost souls and broken minds too. What grows here is hardy and wholesome. Your eye may not be able to discern yet, but there is plenty of food to fill a man’s stomach here. Water is here as well, most of it is hidden but easy to find if one knows how to look for it. We need to watch out for the packs of wolves who also claim this land though. They have first hunting rights.”