Chapter 34

On the wrong side of the river on an unknown planet.

With each step taking him farther out onto the high span, Ureeblay was aware of the surface of the Centaur Way under his reinforced moccasins. As the nervous young man pulled his travel-drag along he felt a steady, cool breeze smelling of clean, moist air pushing from right to left around his body.

The river of air flowed steadily by, heading toward the unseen Toolie, which part of him knew was somewhere off to his left at the mouth of the valley, below and to the Morn. Earlier today Ureeblay had stood at the confluence where the current of the muddy tributary, flowing through the evenly spaced caves that cut through the base of this mysterious cliff he traveled over right now, eventually emptied into the great river that blocked his return home.

Behind him, he could hear the smoothed, rear pads of the draw poles scrape over the flat stone surface. Feeling the vibrations in his grip on the crossbar, he followed the rest of the procession onto a layer of compacted loam between the chest-high walls coming up from either side of the Nota Piriti. The vibrations of the wood he gripped dampened and the rasping sound from the poles softened as the young man pulled the drag onto the two-finger-thick layer of weathered soil that was covered in big stretches with tough, emerald-colored moss that was a soft, living carpet under his feet.

Just ahead of him near the right wall, he gazed at Pegasia's moving reddish-brown rump, her dark tail flipping left and then to her right, feathering in a swirl of the constant breeze. Part of Ureeblay was mesmerized by the movement of her four-legged gait. The angled rays of Father Sun, coming over the top of the right wall bathed the top half of the young Centaur woman's barrel, her tail, her gear and, the right basket of mussels in golden light, along with her head, torso, arms and her walking staff.

Under the clear, late-afternoon sky, Father Sun's bright orb hung three diameters above the hazy, far horizon of hoof-hills seen to the Eve of the wide Muddy River valley.

As Ureeblay watched Pegasia's stately gait, the hooves of her three hoiho walking two of their body lengths ahead of the young woman started to clop on the next length of exposed stone beneath their feet. Beyond the group of four-legs in front of him, Ureeblay noticed the honey-colored spirit wolf for the first time since right after Pegasia had called out a hearty, "JEE!"

He was following behind her on the grassy Way that edged the high bluffs overlooking the Muddy River when she'd called out. Lengths ahead of Fly and Bit, the young filly, Kicking Hooves, had slowed down and looked back over her dappled-gray left shoulder at the young Centaur woman while acting slightly confused, if Ureeblay could describe the filly's response to Pegasia's call that. He noticed Pegasia immediately angled over to the far right side of the Way as they followed along behind the hoiho and the wolf.

"JEE! Kix! JEE!" Pegasia called out again. And this time, Kix seemed to dance a moment before the youngster picked up her ears and her pace and then turned to her left. In hand-one leggy strides, her small hooves softly clip-clopped out onto the stone-surfaced Way that crossed over the crest of the Nota Piriti, which brought out such pride in Pegasia. For a moment, part of Ureeblay wondered where the Centaur Way that continued along the bluff top beyond the intersection with the bridge might take them—certainly not to tapu land, and that was where he wanted to be.

He watched the head of the dapple-gray filly across the downstream wall of the North Bridge as she finally slowed down and looked back. The young wolf was still at the intersection of the Way and the bridge apron. Ureeblay's honey-colored traveling companion made an excited "YIP!" Then she scampered after her new friend, disappearing behind the wall on this side of the mysterious presence that was the Nota Piriti.

A hand of their body lengths ahead of the young Centaur woman he followed, Ureeblay watched the all-black hoiho, Fly, and the roan with the cream mane and tail, Bit. They moved with the same gait that Pegasia did, while seemingly not bothered by carrying their loads, the big panniers full of her gear. When the two reached the intersection of the bridge apron and the Way, they also turned left and followed after Kix and the wolf, the red fur wrap on the lance butt sticking out in the air behind Bit's rump.

Ureeblay could see the young filly's head out on the massively high, but not wide cliff that he still felt very anxious about walking over. Kix seemed to be waiting for her mother and older brother to catch up. He realized that the spirit wolf was hidden from his sight somewhere on the other side of the wall.

As Pegasia and Ureeblay had walked closer to intimidating span, the walls on both sides of the Way slightly reassured the young man with their height. Figuring they would come up to his lower-chest, he still had felt his sphincters tighten and hoped he'd be able to relax enough that, sometime after dinner, he would be able to void. That is, if he managed to not fall over the side.

Now that he was between those walls and crossing over the bridge, the young man was able to look away from Pegasia's rump; he saw the wolf sniffing along the left barrier. The honey-colored spirit wolf was just a stone of Ureeblay's strides from Warm end of this unheard-of form of river-crossing that Pegasia claimed was constructed so many Centaur generations ago by the Dauktaur, the creator of her people. Ureeblay remembered what she'd said as they stood overlooking this wonder that crossed the valley of the Muddy River.

"How can any warrior—" Pegasia had asked him, "—from any of the Final Three Tribes who've seen this, who has crassed to either side of this rivah as ah member of one of the three Eastern Patrols ... how can they not believe?"

Ureeblay did not know how else the North Bridge might have come to be, but he was walking across it right now. To create this unbelievable marvel from stone, he figured the Dauktaur must have been capable of many mysterious and stupendous feats.

Perhaps, the young man found himself thinking, the Dauktaur was a powerful supernatural being, like the evil spirit called Teoyohitica Tahth Atzinthi by the Warmishers and who was known as Godfather Water to Coolishers. If Godfather Water could turn living beings into stone, perhaps the Dauktaur could put up a barrier to capture the breeze and turn it into stone. And if he did create Pegasia's people, Ureeblay decided, the Dauktaur would be a beneficial spirit in their thinking. But, if he was a supernatural, why would the Dauktaur appear to the Centaurs in the form of a two-leg?

As he pulled the loaded travel-drag along the Way over the span, Ureeblay had to admit that if the Dauktaur did build this, it was possible he could also have somehow created the Centaurs out of these jeans, as Pegasia claimed. Might it be that the Dauktaur was actually a manifestation of the World Mother, he pondered? Ureeblay had overheard the camp healer and the camp shaman talking about manifestations of different spirits before. At the time, Ureeblay really didn't understand what they were talking about, but now he was beginning to realize what the concept of different manifestation of a specific spirit might entail.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Ureeblay was suddenly aware of his hunting torque, the giant babbit claws against his skin just below his throat, as well as the plaited cord and the leather sheath of his splinter of frozen lightning resting on the skin at the bottom of his breastbone. Fire, cleaned mussels, and salt, he thought, feeling a hunger pang in his middle in spite of his confusion about everything he was hearing and what little of all the new ideas he could grasp. It truly was like trying to catch any of those bees out in the fire meadow with his bare hand. That would certainly get him stung. At least the buzzing in his head had gone away.

He sucked in a ragged breath, and exhaling, he experienced a wave of partial relaxation working on his moving body as he paced along in harness, gripping the crossbar a little looser. He focused on his muscles as he pulled his loaded travel-drag, step by step, along behind the magnificent, mysterious, wonderful young Centaur woman just two arm-lengths in front of him.

He felt himself starting to grin at the sight. If the Dauktaur had a hand in creating her ancestors; I will say he is a very beneficial—whatever he is; a supernatural being or just a two-leg with a powerful dream and unknown ways of making them real.

Since they had started down into the valley, the young man had seen several glimpses of the young Centaur woman's female parts, and yet his own man part remained limp in his clout. Until his last handful of steps, he hadn't been able to relax at all. At first he was intimidated by the massive structure of the Nota Piriti, and gripped by a sudden, illogical fear of falling over the side.

Now the young man was excited and terrified at the same time. While earlier, Ureeblay was afraid he would somehow fall over the side, at this moment he had an unexplainable urge to look over the edge of this towering cliff-like bridge. He was curious to gaze down into the valley below from either wall of this marvel that spanned across the Muddy River from the Cool side to the Warm, ahead of them.

Thinking more about it, Ureeblay discovered he was also feeling expectant that they were about to enter the tapu land. He just hoped the young warriors answering to Mika would recognize the land's sacred designation and not follow, or at least not force a violent confrontation. While he wanted to see the effectiveness of Pegasia's bow and arrows, he did not want to see what one of those small spears would do to another Centaur. He didn't like the image of casting one or more of his own spears at a Centaur warrior either.

Pondering the effort it would take to unlimber from his travel-drag and grab up his caster and two spears put what he was doing into perspective. The young man realized that besides thinking, at the moment it really was all he could do to keep his body pulling his loaded travel-drag along behind the young Centaur woman's hook, as she'd called it.

Ureeblay was glad to be her half-mesmerized fish, part of him wondering just how she would react if he ever decided to bite? A strong gust of the breeze got his attention and he found he was chuckling, and he was feeling alive.

"So," he called out in a surprisingly normal-sounding voice, again pleased by its deep tone while wanting to distract his mind from what he was doing and where he was, "Pegasia, tell me about your Mentor, Cleo, please?"

"Mate! Yah TALK!" Pegasia laughed and turned to look at him over her left shoulder, the soft, black-leather cover of Long Sting slightly moving with her gait on the back of her torso and against the bag of mussels resting on her left withers. "Tired of staring at my butt, Ureebay? Or yah feeling bettah now that we're halfway acrass—have yah realized that yahr not gonna fall off the side?"

"No, I'm not; yes I am; and ... huh—it seems I have," Ureeblay replied and picked up his pace. He was happy to find his body responding and it was easy pulling his travel-drag around to her left side. Relaxing even more with his effort as he came abreast of Pegasia, the young man asked, "How did you feel the first time you were up here crossing into tapu land?"

"Sheee," she laughed and turned to watch where they were walking on a long patch of loam covered with the emerald moss between the walls and about two-thirds of the way across this bridge. She poked down her oak walking staff gripped in her black-gloved right hand and added, "I was glad I pissed before startin' acrass here that die, I mean, day. It was autumn, cold enough for steam to rise off my stream. Leaves had all fallen from tha trees, so the ... the vista from up here was ... sss... quite impress-sive—stark—but breath takin'."

Pegasia went quiet, the breeze coming over the right wall occasionally making soft fluttering sounds, an unseen bird from somewhere over to their left caw-cawed.

Under harness and slightly lifting on the crossbars of his drag, Ureeblay moved along beside the young Centaur woman and looked to his right. Walking along, he admired Pegasia, now back-lit by the golden rays of Father Sun. The illumination caused him to squint until he matched her pace and managed to keep his eyes in the shadow of her head as he leaned into his load more than he needed to lower himself into the shadow.

Finding the right spot, Ureeblay could see more than the golden nimbus around Pegasia's outline. He found her dark-skinned, exotic facial features with her long, wide nose quite attractive. The far-away look in her sky-blue eyes told the young man she was walking the path of some memory and was unaware that he was studying her.

Ureeblay continued to enjoy looking at her long, reddish-brown hair pulled over the front, left side of her black vest and falling over the strap holding her bow cover against the back of her torso. On her other side, her long oak staff, held in her black, glove-covered right hand, moved as her walking stick.

He then watched the butternut-colored glove and gauntlet on her left hand and forearm moving back and forth in the shadows along with her four-legged gait. Just on the other side of her moving left arm was the two-toned quiver holding her hand-one of arrows. The finely crafted, butternut-and-black container attached to the wide belt going round her lower torso and was swinging beside her left front leg.

The young man noticed the thick cordage of woven hair used to construct the bag holding the mussels was only slightly damp now, flexing against her left withers. Above the wicker rim of the bag was the bottom edge of the black-leather and butternut-fringe cover holding her bow, Long Sting.

As their party walked across the magnificent but intimidating cliff supposedly built by the Dauktaur, the young Centaur woman was unaware that he was studying her. She sighed, and slightly shook her head. Ureeblay turned to watch where they were going, hoping he would never forget the images he'd just memorized of his new traveling companion.

She's now my sworn spear-arm debt-servant, the young man thought, feeling amazed and strangely happy. And she is the initial member of my household. Pegasia is the first real Hurstmon—Centaur—I've ever met, and she is a beautiful, exciting, and funny young woman.

I am happy, Ureeblay admitted. With her beside him now, the young man realized how lonely he'd been—even before he jumped out onto that downed tree trunk on the other side of the great Toolie River.

"So what do yah wanna' know 'bout Cleo?" Pegasia finally asked.

Ahead of them, Ureeblay saw the young wolf trot off the Warm end of the bridge. It seemed to the young man that the spirit wolf was calm, if not almost eager, acting as if she'd crossed over the North Bridge every day and knew where she was going.

"Othah than I miss her," the young Centaur woman added, from near his side.

"She is your, ah, Mentor because you are a Daughter of Churon?" Ureeblay enquired, noticing that Pegasia's three hoiho were still traveling abreast a few strides ahead and seemed content to not widen the gap, the wrap of red fur marking the butt of the young woman's war lance. "Correct? That means she's—"

"—my teacher an' my dear friend," Pegasia told him, "an' much more."

"Yes. So ... her ancestors were Mentors, too?" he asked as the three hoiho ahead of them left a patch of moss-covered loam and their hooves started to clop on the stone surface. "And among those present when the first Centaurs of each tribe were, well... ?"

"Braught into this chosen world by His vision and unrelentin' efforts," Pegasia said, her voice sounding almost obstinate to Ureeblay. "Yes, they were, and Cleo is proud of it, as she should be."

"As she should be," Ureeblay agreed, and the vibrations in the travel-drag crossbar he held increased again as he and Pegasia moved off the moss and onto the bare stone of the Way between the bridge walls. "Ah, I do want to know more about Cleo, but where does tapu land begin?"

"We are already on tapu land, mate," Pegasia chuckled while grinning at him. Suddenly, she was twirling her oak staff around so fast with her black, glove-covered right hand that Ureeblay didn't see exactly what she'd done. Raising her right hand, her elbow shoulder high in front of her, the young woman pointed two-thirds of the staff back over her vest on the other side of her head.

The bright, golden rays of Father Sun made Ureeblay squint; his eyes were outside the shadow cast by the young Centaur woman's body again for a moment until he moved back into the umbra.

"Entered tapu land just back there, halfway acrass the bridge span, mate," announced the exotic young woman with another wide, pleased smile that lighted up her sky-blue eyes with teasing mirth and made Ureeblay's knees feel weak for a moment. "I guess yah were lookin' at somethin' else and didn't see the center stones atop both walls. Not that the stones are all that tall, just forearm high ... but gallopin' goats," she said in a teasing tone of voice, "as my protector; I hope that's not an example of yahr normal powers of obsahvation."

He cleared his throat and then swallowed as another swirl of wind feathered the tails of the three hoiho ahead of them—two colored black and one cream-colored.

"In my defense," Ureeblay told Pegasia, now actually feeling brave enough to respond teasingly to the young woman walking next to him across the high span of the North Bridge and blocking the direct rays of Father Sun from his eyes, "I bet no other fish has ever seen these ... supposed ... center stones, either. Not with such a fine hook purposely dangled right before their eyes." Ureeblay was rewarded as he saw Pegasia's brown cheeks darken with her blush and a small grin formed on her lips.

"Now," said the young man, "about your friend Cleo. You called her a Mowry Mentor—what does that mean—Mowry?"

"Maori," Pegasia corrected his pronunciation as she dug her oak staff into the moss-covered loam with her next step and Ureeblay made sure with a quick glance that the back of his right drag pole didn't get close to her left rear hoof as they walked side by side. "That's tha name of her tribe, from the old times. Cleo's ancestahs were from an islan' called New Zealan on the Dauk-taur's first world—Earth."

Ureeblay remembered what she'd told him about Earth, her additional claim about the origins of his people, and why she'd called him a Maki boy. He still could make no sense of these tiny-tiny things called jeans that Pegasia mentioned.

"New Zealan," Pegasia told him, her voice sounding thoughtful as they walked along together between the confines of the chest-high walls and the open, blue sky overhead, "was not the Dauk-taur's homeland—it is said that the Slavs were his tribe. However, according to Cleo, He had a large puhui piringa haumaru ... sss, a safe ... hiding compound on the islan'. Over many yars," the young woman said, her voice taking on a rhythmic quality that Ureeblay had heard some storytellers use in relating a Legend, "certain two-legs slowly came tah power among the majah tribes of Earth, and they were jealous of the Dauk-taur. On New Zealan, He built His rerenga whakamutunga, His last refuge. His people finishin' the safe, hidden place many yars before those evil ones forged their final alliance. And it was some time aftah that before His enemies started workin' in the shadows to throw down the Dauk-taur's great works and steal the vast riches of His labors for themselves.

"A numbah of people doing His bidding in his puhui piringa haumaru on New Zealan," she continued in rhythm with her four-step gait, "were some membahs of the islan's Maori tribe. When the time came for the Dauk-taur to begin His Great Plan, He braught those tribesmen along with all His othah people who worked in his rerenga whakamutunga on His journey acrass the stars. The Dauk-Taur welcomed the strong, brave Maori contrahbution to His dream that became my proud people."

"So—" Ureeblay asked, admiring Pegasia's storytelling skills. He tried making sense of what he was learning about the Dauktaur. Moving his hands from the crossbar to grip the draw poles beside the hips of his kilt, the young man was aware of his caster and supply of spears racked just behind his hip along the top of that pole.

"So—" with a shake of his head, Ureeblay finally asked the question that he'd formed in his mind, "—The Dauktaur's enemies caused him to flee his old world and find his way here ... traveling somehow among the Swongli above with all of his people?"

He wondered how much of what he was hearing was merely legend and how much might be true. The young man could understand a few new men coming down to this good earth, perhaps each cycle—but it sounded like Pegasia was claiming hands of clans arrived somewhere on this side of the Toolie with her Dauktaur, all at once.

"He came here," Pegasia replied in a slow, patient-sounding young voice as they moved further along in the golden light of late afternoon, "to bring about His greatest dream, the creation of my people. He was not fleeing His enemies—the Dauk-Taur left his old home searching for the world most worthy to be called Thessaly; a world worthy of becomin' the home of the chosen, four-legged children of His true heart.

"We Centaurs."

The young man could feel her passion and was amazed at the strength of her belief in the Dauktaur and his story.

"The more you tell me about the Dauktaur," Ureeblay told Pegasia, "and with this additional example of his work beneath my moccasins—included with your magnificent, surprising self as my companion—the more you give me to think about."

"And I am glad tah finally find such ah fine ika—fish, an' ah two-leg hatakehi ika at that," Pegasia told him in a somewhat demure-sounding voice, "who seems capable of thinkin' so much, let alone at all. A fish that seems tah look beyond the hook ... while contemplatin' his place in tha wider waters about him, as he figgers how best to protect his companions, while he manages to achieve his goals—fishy or othahwise."

"Since crossing the Toolie, I've discovered I must strive to be the fish that thinks, Pegasia," said the young man, part of him embarrassed at her praise and focusing on the resistance he was pulling and the bridge under his moccasins. "I've even learned to swim.

"And I hope to be a worthy son to make the spirit of my sire proud," Ureeblay told Pegasia as his own deeper emotions revealed themselves and he allowed himself to speak unguarded, "and look forward to lighting my mother's eyes with happiness and contentment. You have already seen the extra fish heads I tote along behind me to help with my ponderings when I find my paltry brain is tested.

"But—I thought I was a Maki boy?"

Ureeblay was rewarded with one of the young woman's pleasing chuckles. Then she took a deep breath as they moved along together and she sighed.

"Again, Ureebay, yahr words echo from trails explorin' deeper canyons than the common herd follows," she told him, her young voice taking on a breathy tone.

"—and yet... comin' from a MAKI IKA!" Pegasia suddenly cackled with a delighted burst of laughter.

Over Ureeblay's next hand-three steps along the bridge, the young woman's bubbling mirth seemed to run its course on his right. While she enjoyed her sense of humor, he focused all of his senses out as far beyond the surrounding walls and into the empty air as he could, hoping to finally defeat his irrational fear of somehow falling off Nota Piriti.

Wishing for the moment when he could call on his spirit-heart at will, the young man realized he needed to make the time to explore that mysterious, deeper canyon inside his body and mind, for all their sakes. Then he wondered how Pegasia would react when he tried to explain that unexpected discovery.

"So did Cleo ever tell you—" Ureeblay asked, suddenly a little uncomfortable thinking about opening up to Pegasia about his spiritual side that he didn't understand. Wanting to change the subject back to the Dauktaur's men and what he realized was a growing concern, he continued, "—how many of his people the Dauktaur brought along with him on his journey across the stars?" He wondered how many two-legs there were living in the Dauktaur's lands on the other side of the Purple Mountains now, as well as how many Maori Mentors there were.

Do my own people look like any of the tribes that arrived with the Dauktaur?

Will the Dauktaur's people ever threaten us on our side of the Toolie?

"Next time I see her," the young woman finally said with a grin Ureeblay could hear in her voice over the fluttering breeze, "remind me to ask Cleo that question, okay?"

"Okay," he told her with a nod of his head. His pleasure at using the new word helped to put aside some of his worries about all the unknowns he was learning from Pegasia.

With a sigh, Ureeblay realized he was relaxing enough to enjoy the pull through the harness around his shoulders again. Happy they were finally in tapu land, he pushed his hips against the crossbar of his travel-drag and picked up their pace.

"Since you are a protected and honored member of my household, I will do that for you—remind you."

"Hah!" Pegasia barked out. Ahead, Fly turned her black head enough that her right eye looked at both of them as she walked along. The big, female hoiho nickered and then looked back around. Bit just continued moving forward beside his dam; however, he raised his tail and dropped three more trail apples onto the emerald moss covering this section of the bridge surface.

"There yah go, Ureebay, fresh trail apples ahead!" the young Centaur woman called out.

"No thank you," he told her. "I want cooked mussels—so how soon before we reach the next corral campsite?"

"Soon enough mate. Yah wanted to know what some of the Dauk-taur's people look like. Seems there were membahs of quite a few different tribes from the Dauk-taur's world—" said Pegasia as she watched Ureeblay navigate around the gifts Bit left on the Way. "—well, according to Cleo's discripshins of the skin, hair, an' eye colahs of some of the othah two-legs who are Dauk-taur's people. 'Course I've nevah seen 'em in any territories I've visited of the Tribes—only the Maori Mentors visit us now, and they all have the same featyahs, well ... mostly. Howevah, many of those two-leg tribes of the Dauk-taur's people sound similah in skin an' hair colah to some of the tribes of my people.

"Well," she laughed, "torso up, anyway!"

Ahead of them, the Way entered a broad pine forest toward the crest of the heights here on the Warm side of the valley. As her three hoa pai walked off onto the apron of the North Bridge, Kix broke into a trot. It was obvious the filly wanted to catch up with her new friend, the wolf. Impatient, or just for the thrill of it, the small, dapple-gray hoiho kicked up her black hooves starting to gallop up the consistently wide trail.

Ureeblay realized the spirit wolf seemed intent on being lead scout; she was moving through the late afternoon pine shadows a good stone of hoiho lengths ahead of the racing filly.

A tapu pine forest, Ureeblay recalled as he and Pegasia stepped off the North Bridge; that event was actually unnoticed by the young man as his brain worked with all the questions he intended to ask his new, talking—bewitching—traveling companion.

"What does Cleo look like?" Ureeblay enquired; smiling as it occurred to him Pegasia had made a joke about the difference between two-legs and Centaurs. He gazed up the Centaur Way, noting how it ascended, cutting up along the Morn flank of the huge, pine-covered ridge rising up high in front of them. With the crowns of the evergreens taller on the right side of the trail, the young man could see quite a ways uphill through the mature trunks.

"I've seen several of Mika's warriors," Ureeblay told Pegasia when she didn't answer, "even a troop moving fast down in a valley when I was hiding up on the crest, watching them. And I've seen you, but I've only ever seen other Welow Swongli—ah, two-legs," that weren't in a vision, he thought.

"Some of his young warriors have very good trackin' skills," Pegasia said. "However, with their inexperience, many of Mika's warriors seem to think their enemies will just present 'emselves so they can show off their war lance skills; defeatin' their foe without any real threat to their own hides, let alone their lives."