Chapter 38

Zoley didn’t pay attention to the road as she steered the first of the three creaky wagons returning to her plague camp in the old sandstone quarry. Deeply immersed in thought, the Irvanie of Panos didn’t even notice when her oxen team came to a halt. They had reached a crossing. Standing at the crossing the time passed, disregarded, until a hand softly touched her shoulder.

“Irvanie?” A woman asked. “Do you hear me, Irvanie?”

Zoley slowly turned around on her bench and saw the face of a worried-looking woman. Behind the woman, she noticed more women and also some children, crouching on a wagon’s cargo area. And they all were looking at her.

“Irvanie?” The woman with a hand on Zoley’s shoulder repeated her question. “Don’t you feel well?”

Zoley forcibly shook her head. “Forgive me,” she apologized. “I was somewhere else with my thoughts. What did you ask?”

The woman looked even more worried now and bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Irvanie. I didn’t mean to disturb your thoughts.”

A tall Ibanee woman suddenly appeared by the side of Zoley’s wagon bench.

“What’s wrong?” The tall woman asked.

Zoley remembered the woman; her name was Shinta. The Irvanie shook her head once more and finally, her mind cleared.

“Nothing is wrong,” she answered.

It was a lie. Something was badly wrong.

“Nothing is wrong,” Zoley repeated the lie. “But I can’t return to the camp, yet. I just remembered I’ve to go somewhere else. Forgive me, but you and the two men you hired will have to take the mothers and their children to the camp without me. I urgently need to go somewhere else now.”

Zoley didn’t wait for an answer and descended the wagon bench. At first, she walked but when she passed the wagons, with the mothers and children watching her, she ran. She ran and when Ikei jumped off her shoulder, she ran even faster. She ran until she couldn’t run anymore and fell to the ground. She looked around, sweat and tears blurring her sight. It was on another crossing and people were passing her while she lay in the dirt. The people walking past her down the road were sick but she saw the hope in their eyes. The people coming up the road also showed signs of the plague but they were laughing and smiling. Laughing and smiling like people whose hope had been fulfilled. A man bent down to Zoley and reached out to her.

“Take my hand, I help you up,” the diseased man wheezed. “We’re almost there.”

Zoley took the offered hand and got up. They followed the stream of people. She knew where they would lead her. The end of the road opened into a wide square. A fountain stood in its center. It had to be thousands of people crowding the space as Zoley and her sick helper made their way toward the center of the wide square.

“There he is!” Her sick companion exclaimed, pointing at his hope to survive.

Zoley saw to whom he pointed. Surrounded by thousands of diseased, Jabbit sat on the edge of the fountain.

“Please, will you heal me?” Her companion croaked when they were close enough to plead.

“Do you have a copper coin?” Jabbit asked.

She watched as the man with a weakly trembling hand held out the small price to save his life. And she watched as Jabbit took it.

Jabbit looked at her and smiled. “Hello Zoley,” he greeted and dropped the small price on-top of the others piling up at his feet.

Staring at the mountain of copper coins, she didn’t return his greeting. A few more coins joined the pile as others paid the price for their life before Zoley finally said something.

“Why here?” She asked. Tears ran down her cheeks as she looked past Jabbit to the temples of the Ibanee gods seaming this square in the heart of the capital.

“I didn’t start here,” Jabbit answered. “I’ll end it here.”

“How will it end?” She asked

He held up a silver coin with a small hole in it. “A boy I met gave this coin to me,” he said. “I want to give it to you.”

“Why?” She asked.

“If you take the coin, you can heal everyone still suffering from the plague,” Jabbit answered. “Will you take it?”

“You’ll just give it to me, without demanding anything in return?”

“I never demanded anything from you without offering something in return,” he answered. “This silver coin I’ll give to you for a price you’ve already paid.”

New tears ran down her cheeks when she walked away, a silver coin in her hand.

Evanis, returning from the peace negotiations, met Shinta, who was returning from the plague camp, at a junction about a league ahead of the woodcutter camp. Returning from a task wasn’t the only thing the two warriors had in common. Surprisingly, they both now had an escort.

“Where did you get them,” Evanis asked, eyeing the seventy-two Ibanee soldiers following Shinta.

“I was returning three wagons to the plague camp a bit north of here,” Shinta began her tale. “Empty wagons, I should add; empty wagons previously used to transport plague victims to our camp where our divinity healed them. Halfway back to the plague camp, the Irvanie of Panos, who was the reason for the whole endeavor, suddenly jumped off her coachbox and ran away. When she was gone, the diseased decided they had recovered enough and also didn’t need to return to the camp. That’s why I had to return three empty wagons. That caused an argument with the soldiers guarding the camp who, of course, blamed me for the escape of the diseased. Suddenly, surprising me as well as the guards, these guys turned up at the gate. They don’t look as maimed as your patch-men but I think they have to be related somehow. The weirdest thing was that they called me captain. Anyhow, their appearing certainly resolved the argument at the gate. Finally, as you can see, they are following me since I left the camp.”

“I suppose they are a new branch of reinforcements,” Evanis replied. “Plague victims; probably prior navy soldiers.”

“That reminds me of something remarkable I noticed on my way back here,” Shinta said. “When we were passing the outskirts of Sanjaba, I saw hundreds of people celebrating on the streets. I only know one thing so many people would like to celebrate at the moment - they survived the plague.”

Evanis took her copper coin from the pouch at her belt. “Jabbit is somewhere in the middle of Sanjaba,” she related with the coin in her fist. “Are you sure what you saw were people celebrating and not people running away screaming?”

Shinta guffawed. “I hope that you are sure it’s allowed to joke and laugh about a god.”

“I am,” Evanis confirmed. “It’s allowed to joke, laugh, and smack him on the back of his head.”

“That sure sounds like you finally became religious.”

“Yes; I can’t deny it anymore,” Evanis admitted. “I had an epiphany the last time I fucked with a god.”

“You lucky girl, you!” Shinta exclaimed before she burst out laughing again.

A little while later, the two merry believers and their dead-men escorts arrived at the woodcutter camp where everyone shared the news of the day.

“Does anyone know a reason for Dharos of Tunapor to suddenly hoist Sybelien’s family banner?” Anseyla asked.

“Nothing I can think of,” Sybelien answered.

“You decided we’ll return to Katerra tomorrow,” Rhaseris remarked, looking at Evanis. “Don’t you think you should have asked Jabbit first?”

“No,” Evanis crisply answered.

“I can go find the Boss and ask him,” Sybelien suggested.

Anseyla shrugged. “Asking Jabbit usually doesn’t answer anything.”

“What happened when you and Jabbit snuck away last night?” Rhaseris asked. “Until then he was your beloved lord, now everything you say about him is mean-spirited.”

“Nothing happened,” Anseyla curtly replied.

“Let’s all go to Sanjaba,” Kuwasi prompted. “Shinta told us of the people celebrating in the streets. I don’t want to miss a big party tonight if we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you worried anymore that someone might recognize you?” Evanis asked, smirking.

Kuwasi returned her grin. “No, I’m not. After what happened the last two days, no one will think twice about a weary, old pirate.”

“Then let’s go and join the party!”

At first it was a trickle but soon it became a steady stream of people returning from the plague camps out of town. People taken away into sickness and death returned to their homes and loved ones to live again. Every road toward Sanjaba fed the city with more happy people wanting to celebrate life. Within the Ibanee capital, no one stayed at home either. Music and laughter was everywhere; people were singing and dancing in the streets. Of course with all those people thirsty for life, the nation’s favorite beverage, Shu, was also flowing in rivers down many parched throats. Some visitors of Ibanee enjoyed the taste as well.

“Don’t be shutch a killshoy,” Evanis slurred; a mug in hand and an arm wrapped around Sybelien’s waist. “Shu‘ll like it ... eh, you’ll like Shu, I mean.”

“You think I’ll like it as much as Ansa?” Sybelien soberly asked.

“Dunno; where i’she anyway?”

“She’s sitting on Jabbit’s lap and Shu-ing off his ear about his latest misdeeds,” Sybelien answered, while they were jostled by the crowd and she was struggling to keep them both standing upright.

The square in the middle of Sanjaba also had become the center of the festivities. It was loud and crammed with an increasing number of happy drunks.

“You tricked me!” Anseyla shouted, with her arms around Jabbit’s neck and her lips at his ear. “Why didcha do it?”

“Because I like you,” Jabbit answered.

“Hu? You lied and tricked me becaush shu like me?” Anseyla asked, a little unsteady. “I shink I need more Shu!”

“Yes, I lied and tricked you because I like you,” he answered. “I like you because you are fun. You wanted to seduce Sybelien with lies and a trick. I wanted to seduce you. Seducing is fun, too.”

“Bashtard!” Anseyla whispered not too quietly and then nibbled at his ear. “I like’shu, too. Now kish me and I’ll forgive shu one lasht time.”

Anseyla wrapped her arms a little tighter around Jabbit’s neck and they kissed. It was a very long and slobbery kiss.

“Shu tastes good on you,” Jabbit remarked, licking his lips.

“I shink Shu makesh me horny,” Anseyla replied, squirming in his lap.

They kissed again.

“Shybil ish looking, right?” Anseyla moaned in his ear.

“No,” Jabbit whispered back, while one of his hands slid beneath the hem of her dress and up her thigh.

Anseyla shivered. “Tish time I know you’re lying, bashtard. I can shee her looking at ush.”

With the next kiss, his hand reached the apex of her thighs and she parted them a little more.

“I’m drunk and you’re abusing me out in the open, amidst a crowd, and for everyone to see,” she hushed as his fingers stroked the moist lips of her sex.

“I’d never do that,” he replied and two of his fingers pushed inside her.

Anseyla bit in Jabbit’s shoulder, muffling her outcry.

“You’re not drunk anymore,” he finished his answer; his fingers pushing harder and his thumb pressing on her clit.

“Sybil will see me coming,” Anseyla hissed. “Quick; kiss me.”

Anseyla clutched him tightly and screamed throughout the kiss.