Chapter 13

Chapter 13:  Han-Sashael

Heading West

Day 135

“Good morning, Nibani.”  We had left Mashti’s encampment at first light Julan and I had arrived at the Urshailaku Camp shortly before noon the next day.

“So you have passed the third trial, tell me all you heard in Azura’s Cavern.” I explained everything that I could, and let her know I was ready for the next trial.  “You have to unite all the great houses in Vvardenfell and have them name you Hortator.”

“Hora-who?”

“Oh Anne…” Julan said shaking his head.

“Outlander,” Nibani says closing her eyes in frustration, “when a greater enemy threatens, the Great Houses put aside their quarrels and choose a Hortator, or a single war leader to lead all the Houses.  Only a Great House council can name a Hortator.  You will have to get approval from Hlaalu, Redoran and Telvanni Houses.”

“How can I convince them?”

Nibani smiled, “The Hlaalu are soft, cowardly, sly and greedy--much like the mainlanders.  You can probably buy them.”  I knew that was a swipe at my character and I knew she disliked me greatly, but what I also knew was she needed me.

“I’m sure I could.”

Nibani went on. “The Telvanni are ageless sorcerers living in towers throughout Vvardenfell.  I know nothing of them, except they are old, terrible and evil.”

“What of the Redoran?”

“The Redoran are proud and haughty, known as great warriors and great worshipers of the Tribunal.  As they love the Temple and Vivec, they cannot love you.  The Temple warriors hate the Nerevarine Prophesies, dissident priests, and upstarts.  They will most likely hate you and will kill you if they see you.”

“Fantastic.  Jules, you sure you don’t—.” I said joking—though rather poorly timed.  He shot a scowl in my direction.

“After you are named Hortator, then you will have to be named Nerevarine by all the tribes.  Of course the logic of the Nerevarine being an Outlander is offensive to most, and you will not be welcomed, though your companion Julan can be your guide.” She nodded at Julan.  I think if she had her choice she would have preferred him.  “Come back when all the houses name you Hortator and the tribes call you Nerevarine.”

“Well…thank you Nibani.  I’ll try not to get killed.  Let’s go Jules.”  We made our way out of the camp, and walked through the wastes, west towards civilization. The sky was blue with light clouds forming on the horizon.

“No.” I said stopping suddenly.

“What?” Julan turned, looking at me with a puzzled expression.

“We’re going to stop heading west.  I think we should get this over with.” He looked at me as if I lost my mind.

“What do you mean?”

“Sansit. They’ll hunt you forever if we don’t.”

“What about you?  The Hortator?”

“Nibani’s told me what I have to do, though talking and pleading with a bunch of uptight, hateful people that can’t stand me sounds a whole hell of a lot less important then exercising demons.  Just a thought…”

He smiled, “After you.”  Sansit was just a day away.  Cavern was not blocked, though as we entered it a telltale red glowing light and intricately woven banners gave notice that the cavern had been turned into a Sixth House base.

“Anni this isn’t Daedra—it’s Sixth House. I can’t believe those bastards have taken over this cave…building their filthy alters over my father’s bones!”

“Save your anger for the fight!  The shrine’s up ahead!”  On the floor of the dimly lit shrine, there were naked Dreamers praying.  They looked up at us in a sugar daze and rose slowly to attack.  Without armor, we cut through them like butter.  Sadly, it was during some kind of religious rite.  Who was I to say the Sixth House was evil? Was it any worse than other religions or cults floating around this tiny island?

“Anne….Do you see that?”  Julan took my hand and pointed.

“What?”

“Back there?”  Partially hidden behind a torn banner was a large crevice in the stone.  It looked to be a passage.  We squeezed through the tiny corridor, against a slippery wall, our hands the only guide through the darkness.  The passage then opened up to a large, cavernous room, and in an instant we were attacked by an Ogrim and Golden Saint.

Strange Portal

“This is more like it!  These are Daedra caves, all right, but we need to go deeper, I think.  My father died beneath the mountain.”  Walking through the cavern I saw bits and pieces of armor, most likely from the fallen Ahemmusa on that terrible day.  I picked them up slowly.  Julan walked far in front, it was as if he somehow knew where he was going.  Ahead in the distance, we saw a faint light; something was emanating from darkest part of the cavern.  “What is this?” Julan asked putting his against the misty barrier. A light shown through a tunnel, but we could not pass through.

“Jules, watch out!” from the blocked passage two Hunger moved in from the other side to attack.  “Jules if they are able to pass through to us, perhaps we should subdue then use them to get through to the other side!”  He stared at me in amazement and smiled admiration.  Quickly he nodded and cast a spell.  The Hunger went limp and walked, as if in a trance, through the passageway, we passed along with them.  More Daedra lay ahead.  A gigantic Hunger stood between us and back of room.  Hungers were easy, even if they were giants, and though my sword and shield took a beating, the monster was felled.  Thank gods, neither of us were seriously hurt.  Across the cavern, upon a rock, a shadowy figure stood.  Wordlessly we approached it.

The image ahead of was of an incredibly handsome Ashlander.  His hair was a sandy blond and he had blue eyes, but had the sharp features and skin color of an Ashlnader.  I imagine if Julan and I ever had children, this is what they would look like.  

“Han-Julan?” the ghost asked.  Julan dropped to his knees. I could only assume this was Sashael.  The specter started speaking in an incomprehensible Ashlander dialect.  I backed away.  This was between father and son.

“You do not understand me, Han-Julan?  Hah! You’re no son of mine!” He was now speaking in the Imperial dialect.

“Father…” Julan pleaded.

“Oh, so you do still remember some of your culture, do you?  Ai, these young ones of the tribe, all speaking the tongue of the n’wah, talking like Outlanders, forgetting the language of their ancestors.”

“I’m just a little out of practice, that’s all.” Julan spoke a child, in a halting, sad tone.  Perhaps if Han-Sashael had played a greater roll in his life…

Sashael continued his tirade, “Ai, such a generation we have upon us.  No respect for the tribe.  No respect for the ancestors.  Leave their father’s bones to rot in a cave for three years, soul trapped, unable to join with the tribal spirits.  How will the tribe survive, with such children as this?”

Hunger

“You’re right.  I failed you.”

I couldn’t bear this anymore.  In a rage I strode angrily toward the specter. “No, Sashael you failed him!” I shouted.  “You denied him from birth.  What right do you have to chide him?  I would have let you rot forever!”  At that moment, I realized was speaking to my father Uriel Septim, not Han-Sashael, though this was the closest I would ever get to chiding him.

“You shall not judge me, Outlander!” bellowed the angered specter…Good.  What could he do but speak? “There are others who have the task of judgment,” he said looking away from me. “Julan…you may demand answers from me.”

“No.  I demand nothing.  I understand how it was.  You made a mistake—a brief affair, an unwanted baby.  What could you do but deny it?  Your honor could not be stained by such a thing, you’re wife was too respected.  And you had her feelings to consider.  You could not shame the woman you loved by raising another’s son, while she remained childless.  I cannot blame you.  I—it was a mistake and you dealt with it as you had to.”

“Ai…” I began to walk away.  I don’t know where my rage came from.  Was it Julan’s weakness?  Anger on behalf of Mashti, and every wronged woman?  My mother, my own rage against my father?  Julan grabbed my arm.

“Please, Anni, let him finish.”

“Julan,” the voice said weakly, “I made a terrible mistake.  I married the woman my parents had chosen for me, because she was a most religious woman, although I did not love her as she loved me.  And when she threatened to summon her Daedric lord to destroy you and your mother, I made a deal with her.  She would let you live, even allow you into the camp, so long as I never named as my son, and never spoke your name.”  He paused for a moment.  I wondered if the ghost of a man could feel shame, or remorse?  Do you carry sins like weights when you pass on?  Sashael continued, “I see now that I was a fool to think she would harm you, since she would lose her hold over me, and any little love I held for her would be destroyed.  But in my folly and panic, I swore a biding oath to the gods and ancestors, staking the very safety of the tribe.”

“I…I see,” Julan said, deflated.

“It was always my plan to tell you.  When you were a man, and had nothing to fear from Ahmabi and her threats.  But it is not an easy thing to do, after nearly 20 years…and I had sworn oaths that were dangerous to break.  So I hesitated, like a fool.  But then…your Shani came to see me, weeping, and told me of your mother’s plan for you.  That you were to go to Red Mountain and defeat the devil.  You had to know the truth before it was too late.”  His Shani.  Bah!

          “I sent for you, but you were not to be found.  So I went to Ahmabi, and demanded that she release me from my oaths.  I no longer cared about her threats.  She obeyed me, or let me think so.  No doubt she prayed to Boethiah that very night.” He paused for a second then continued, “What did she pray for I wonder?  I cannot think she intended my death, as for all her faults, she loved me.  But the Daedra interpret requests as it suits them, for their own amusement.  She received the trap that ended my life on the next day’s morning hunt.”

            “Ai…,” a moan escaped Julan’s lips.  Han-Sashael continued.

         “Julan, I have made many mistakes in my life.  Many, many regrets.  But loving your mother, and fathering you, these things I have never regretted.  It was the most joy I ever knew, even if it brought the most sorrow.  And now you are here, fulfilling my greatest wish.  You will return my bones, and save the Ahemmusa.  Take them, and release me from this place.  My spirit will no longer retain this mind, and these memories.  I shall become one with the Ancestors.”

          “Good bye, father,” Julan said bowing.  

Father and Son

         “Julan…One last thing, before my soul reaches Oblivion.  Tell your mother…tell Mashti…that if I could keep but one memory of this life, to hold with me always, it would be of her, dancing…”  The specter then disappeared, Julan stooped to gather the bones and silently we walked out of the cave toward day light.  We did not speak until we reached Mashti’s encampment.  Seeing the skulls decorating her door made me smile, despite her twisted psyche, I had known all along that she had been telling the truth about Han-Sashael.  I was pleased that my instincts were right.

           “Well,” he started quietly as we reached the sandy shore. “I got what I came for, didn’t I?”

           “Did you?” I questioned, for I did not think he had.

          “Yeah, I suppose…Though I thought I’d feel different about this, somehow.  I thought if I returned his bones, I’d feel like I was really his son, or something.  And, when he spoke, saying the kinds of things a father should say…I could not feel it.  He is not my father…just some man I hardly knew.”

        “I’m glad you had the chance to make some kind of peace…”  My voice trailed off.  I was still angry…at his weakness…at the acceptance of his mother’s treatment.  ‘Your honor could not be stained.’  So it was perfectly alright—nay expected—to crucify mother, but give father a free pass. I walked past him towards the guest yurt.  I would not be his comfort tonight.   “I will never understand you, Jules.  Maybe it’s best I don’t.”

           “Anni, what?”

          “You spoke of Mashti…like it was nothing that he discarded her…Is that what you’ll do to me, when you’re through?  Will your explanation be ‘a brief affair’?”  He had done nothing to warrant this tirade, but in truth….in truth I was afraid.  I knew the future and saw it clearly before me in the eyes of every Ashlander we encountered together.  They would look at Julan and I, and I could see they despised me and wondered what he was doing with the n’wah.  Eventually he would be called upon to make a choice, what would it be?

            “Anni, that was different.”

         “Guarshit.  It’s the same.  It’s all the same…Mashti, my mother—all of us.  Discarded. Meaning nothing.  How could you have let it pass?  I thought,”… I looked at him dead in the eyes.  “I thought you were different.”

         “Anni, would you have me chide a dead man?  What’s past is past—and no, it does not affect my future.”

          “The past is the future, if you’ve learned nothing from it!” I snapped. He said nothing for a few tense minutes, then I turned from him, entering the “guest yurt”.  “Julan, when we…when you rise, come for me.  Good night.”

           “Good night,” he said tersely, and made his way into his yurt.  

          In the morning I rose, unsure of what would become of us, though my way was clear.  I would help the people of this land, though they despised me—with or without Julan, then I would move on—towards the mainland, finding my mother and vanquishing that ghost that haunted me for so long. I walked out of yurt more confident than I had been the night before.

        “Anni, are you ready?  I wish to get through this,” he said curtly.  We walked briskly toward the Ahemmusa Camp.  Julan carried a sack containing his father’s bones; with his free hand he impulsively grabbed mine.  We walked along the sandy beaches like two lovers.

Day 137

Lovely Bones

 “Julan!” Sinnammu Mirpal, the Ahemmusa Wise Woman shouted, “Julan, you have returned the bones?”  She was in awe.

            “Yes.”

          “Please give them to me.  I shall carry out the necessary rituals.”  She paused and took his hands, “This is a wonderful thing you have done for our tribe.  Please tell me everything that has passed.”  Julan sat down beside Sinnammu and explained the whole tale, Ahmabi’s part, and Mashti’s innocence.  Sinnammu sat quietly thought this and sighed as she spoke, “So…this is how it was.  And we blamed Mashti all this time.  I believe you, but there are many in the tribe who will not.  Ahmabi is known as a religious woman, and a loving wife.  You must make her confess her crime, if you would prove Mashti innocent.” She paused for a second, thinking.  “There is a way this may be done.  Ahmabi is easily angered, and…if you provoke her, she may admit it all.”

        “Who would believe us?” I asked, not knowing what would happen even if she did confess.

       She looked at me as if I had no place in this conversation.  “I shall be listening outside, Outlander, to bear witness to you.”

         “Thank you, Sinnammu,” Julan said.    She nodded, releasing his hand.  We exited the yurt.

         “Anni, we need to make Ahmabi so angry that she explodes and admits everything.  It shouldn’t be too hard—we seem to have a special knack for making enemies!”

        “Indeed,” I smiled.  A quick trip across the camp and we were there, in front of the Ashkhan’s yurt.  I wondered if Ahmabi would in some way be relived; the other shoe dropped and her lies would fall to the ground, like gossamer and silk.   

        We entered her yurt, she was kneeling again in front of the alter—did she spend her days like this, begging for forgiveness where there could be none?  She rose quickly and shouted. “What is he doing here!  How dare you come here!”  This would be easier than I thought.  “What do you want from me?”

         “Simply, Ahmabi, the truth,” I said calmly.

         “Go away!  I don’t owe you any explanation!” Ahmabi shrieked at both of us.

         Julan walked up to her, “You have no choice in this, Ahmabi.  I know Han-Sashael was my father, and I know about the bargain you made.”

         “And,” I added, “we know how your husband really died.”

         Her eyes darted quickly back and forth.  She had paused to think of a lie. “No!!! How can you even think—.”

         “Stop, you false rage…your false piety, you withered old hag!” Julan shouted.  Her eyes were almost glowing and I saw her reach for some sort of stick.  I had to stop her.  She had to confess.

         “Ahmabi,” I said gently, “I understand your anger, but how could you let another take the blame for your crime?  You were woman enough to kill him, but turned scrib when the dust fell.”

          “You n’wah!” her rage was palatable.  “How dare you say that!! She did kill him!  She tried to take him from me!”

          “That’s not how it went down, Ahmabi.” I said, “and you know it.  Han-Sashael pursued Mashti.”

          “No!  She forced me to act, to protect my marriage…And yes, to demand my Lord that He carry out my bidding…it was an act of self-defense!”

"What exactly did you pray for?"

       “What exactly did you pray for, Ahmabi,” Julan shouted, “the night you brought about your husband’s—my father’s—death?’

         Ahmabi turned and hissed at Julan, “I prayed that he might never breathe a word of truth to his bastard spawn,” she was laughing wildly now. “But more than that, I prayed for vengeance!  I prayed that whore might know half the pain I felt when he betrayed me for her! And now” she said through gritted teeth, “and now the only joy left to me in this blighted world is that—in that regard, at least, I succeeded.”

         Julan’s piercing smile sent chills through me. This was the man I had come to love. He spoke with a calculated coldness, as if this scene had been rehearsed. “Yes, Ahmabi, and it is now my great joy that the truth is out.  The ancestors want your blood, sera. It’s been long overdue.”  Julan plunged his sword into her gut, his eyes red as the blood spilling from her mouth. I could see a cold satisfaction in his firmly set jaw.  The bastard forged in iron had finally become a cold steel.

         Ahmabi was laughing still—chocking on the blood that flowed from her mouth like torrents in the sea.  “I curse the ancestors, just as I long ago cursed the gods!  And I curse you both, for I will not give you the satisfaction of walking out this yurt alive.  You will never be Ashkhan, whoreson!”  She lifted her hands and Hungers appeared from the smoke of her little shrine.  We fought wildly, though these were not the Hungers that destroyed a tribe of men—they had not same magic of the ones she used against their husband.  In the end, her strength had diminished.

         “So, this is how it ends.  The ancestors have the vengeance they desired,” he said bitterly.  I held Julan’s head as the blood ran down his face.

“At your expense.” He stood and held my gaze.

          As I went to stand, my hand reached for the table causing it to fall and crush her little shrine.  The clay figurine of Han-Sashael smashed to pieces. We both stared in silence.  Julan then reached for me, “Come on, Anni, let’s go and find Sinnammu.  I hope she heard all, or there will be trouble,” he said smiling, walking out of his rival’s yurt.  Sinnammu stood outside, surrounded by what looked to be the whole camp.

         “I heard everything—as did the whole tribe.  Ahmabi will be mourned, but what has happened is for the best.  We cannot keep such poison in the camp.  Tell Mashti that her exile is lifted, and you are both welcome here once more.” I saw the pain lifted from Julan’s brow.  “Annika Blue,” she turned to me, continuing, “if you are truly the Nerevarine, then our prayers and hopes go with you.  For now, I shall name you the Champion of the Ahemmusa.  And Julan,” Sinnammu turned, before the whole tribe, and took Julan’s hands in hers and spoke, “I think they will call you a great Ashkhan someday.  Oh I can tell by your face you think I jest, but tell me Julan, why did you go to fetch your father’s bones?”

          Julan spoke clearly, “So that his spirit might return to protect the tribe and help us become strong once more.” I smiled, noting that he had not added that the spirits were torturing him into action.  He is learning—and maybe…just maybe he would one day be a great leader.

        “I believe, you, Julan, and you succeeded,” Sinnammu went on, “but Sashael’s bones were not the cause.  You carry your father’s spirit, Julan.  I have known you since you were a child, and you always had his fire, his determination and fierce loyalty to the tribe, even when we rejected you.  I once thought you shared his lack of wisdom, but now I believe that has changed,” she smiled.  “Perhaps it is your mother’s gift, but no…I rather think it is something all your own, that you have hard-won through bitter experience.”

        “Ai,” he said smiling.  This was a greater gift than the Nerevarine.

        “In time we shall name you Han-Julan Ashkhan.  Right now you have obligations to your friend Annika that you should fulfill.  I know this, and I shall be here to watch over the tribe until your return.”

       “Thank you, sera.” Julan said releasing her hands and looking to the tribe who had gathered.  I noticed that all eyes were on him.  There was a choice to be made.

That Evening

Before we reached Mashti yurt, I leaned into Jules and kissed him long, and lingering.  On the sand, with the wind blowing in his hair is how I wanted to remember him.

        “Let’s go in and tell Mashti,” he said after we kissed.  “Mother—“

        “Are you ready to take vengeance on me for your father now?” she asked.  Always so dramatic.

       “Mother, hush…I am sorry I spoke so harshly to you.  I know you had nothing to do with Sashael’s death.”

"Hmmph!"

        “Hmmph.”

        “I spoke with his spirit.”

        “You…what?” she startled, nearly falling.

       “Everything is going to be all right,” he said taking her hand, “you’ll never have to worry about this again, I promise.” He told her of his meeting with Han-Sashael and the subsequent death of Ahmabi.  He also told her of becoming the Ashkhan, and of the past Ashkhan’s last wish.

        “Sashael loved you till the end, Mother.”

       “I…this is too much.  I can scarcely believe what you are telling me,” she paused, “No longer exiles?  Ahmabi…dead?  And Sashael…oh, Sashael….” Mashti grew visibly weak; Julan helped her to the ground.  “Julan…I once gave you a destiny, a dream.  Perhaps that was wrong of me. It was not your destiny to receive, as it was never mine to give,” she said looking over at me, malice gone, she continued, “You have learned to make your own fate.  And you have done things I did not believe possible.  You have never failed me…though I failed…and never told you…how proud I am of you…and how much I love you.”

         “Shhhh.,” he said rocking her.  He spoke something to her their own language.  I walked out of the yurt; there was much I needed to think about.  “Anni,’ I heard him walking behind me, “I think I’ll stay here for a few days—“

        “I was actually going to suggest that.  Jules, I’m going to visit Muddy—and take care of a few other things.”

          “You will be back?”  He looked at me, concern in his eyes.

         “Of course.” I wasn’t sure, but it sounded like the right thing to say.  I just needed time. “You should see if there’s a way to integrate Mashti back into the tribe.”

         “I’m not sure now’s the time for that.  I want to be there with her when she settles—I’d also like to be the established Ashkhan, and that will not happen until we have completed your mission.”

         “Well, I’ll return as soon as I can.”

         “Let me know how we prosper!  Oh, and Annika the Brave, no risks or chances…” he said laughing.

    I raised my eyebrow and smiled.  “I’ll make my best effort.  I will see you soon.” I said kissing him gently.           I was gone for nearly three weeks.  

Day 153

I had returned to Mashti’s encampment; at the same time hoping and dreading to see it abandoned.  It was not.  In the distance I saw Julan was chopping fire wood.  He glared as I walked towards him then went back to splitting wood.  In the weeks I had been gone I had decided, though the decision had caused much pain, that it would be best for both of us if he abandoned the mission.  Julan’s responsibility is to his people, not me, and in truth, I thought he might be happier.  Not only had he been accepted back into the tribe, but was going to be named Ashkhan.  I was more of a liability to him now.   Moving closer though, I had to admit, my resolve was slipping.  “Julan,” I walked up to him slowly, I knew he would be angry and I didn’t have the heart for a fight.   Knowing that my mission would involve all Ashlander tribes, also I knew it would be best to end this as civilly as possible—he was after all, going to be Ashkhan. I also loved him and did not want to part on bad terms.  He stopped as I approached and looked up from the firewood. I took a breath and spoke, “You once said that it was much easier leaving than being the one left.” I took another deep breath, “You need to be with your people.  I—.” I paused, looking away.  “You are free of your obligations to me.  Go—and help your tribe.”  He looked at me seriously.  Then started laughing bitterly.  I was not expecting this reaction—at all.

          “So this is why you’ve been gone so long, eh?” he asked laughing.  “Gods!  People are all so stupid.” 

          “What?!” This was my serious moment, and he was laughing at me!

         “Oh,” he said softly chuckling, “it seems that the people in my life have spent the last few decades trying to make themselves completely miserable.  My mother, my father, Ahmabi, even me and you in our own foolish way…We’ve all acted ridiculously, doing things out of pride, or ignorance, spite…or,” he said looking directly at me, “fear.  Anni,” he said—now dead serious.  I stared off into the distance, “No, don’t look away, Annika.  I know how your mind works—we’ve been together day in and day out for nearly a half a year’s time.  You have worked out some morbid fantasy—”

         “What?”  He was right.

       “You heard me.  There’s nothing wrong with your ears…its what’s in between that causes all the problems.  But please, continue.  Tell me why we shouldn’t be together.”

            “Because your people hate me!  And they would hate us. I will never be accepted, and yes, I think you will eventually come to realize this and perhaps regret your words…and actions.  I want out before its too late.”

            “Too late?  What does that mean?”

“You know what I mean…before we destroy each other…or create something that cannot be...be so easily destroyed.” That was the reality.  I wanted out before we created another unwanted child—before history had a chance to repeat itself. He was really laughing at this point.  “You’re laughing at me—you’re not taking this seriously at all!  Gods, I have been a fool.  Go to your people, love a less complicated girl!”

            He threw the axe down.  “You think it’s that easy, do you?”  I didn’t answer.  “Anni I promise you, it’s not.  Had it been so easy, well, I might have done it!  I am not so much of a fool to deny the implications and disdain that both you and I will face. And Annika—you know this…”

          “You hadn’t banked on being the Ashkhan…” 
          “No, no I had not, but it changes nothing.”

           “It changes everything!” 
         “Not for me!” he shouted, impassioned. “All my life I wanted to be accepted by my people, but losing you would be too great a price.  Besides,” he placed my hands on my shoulders.  “I would have asked you to marry me…Actually I would have told you to.”

           “Told?” I said raising an eyebrow.

"I would have asked you to marry me.'

         “Yes, told,” he said sharply.  “Because I won’t chance us being foolish again,” he paused for a moment, speaking in a softer tone, “Anni, we’ve made the other possible…and, yes, I think we could make each other happy. Please,” he said with the sand and wind in his hair, “Anni, what do you say?” What could I say to that?  I loved him.  Through all the doubts, jealousy and fear, I knew…knew in my heart…the right answer was simply, “Yes.”    He picked me up and swung me around, spinning until we both fell in the surf.   

            Later in the night, he whispered, “Anni, I did not plan this, though I had it in my heart to ask you for quite some time.  I have not a ring, but—we”

         “We have our rings already—the ones made by Mashti…a path into your mind is more to me than some shining rock…”  The other jewels were easily had…I had the jewel I desired.

            “So…you’re satisfied with a simple traveling ring?”

             “Our life together has been travel, one day when its not I’ll look to ring and remember.”

“Anni, do ya think you’re with child?”   

“Maybe…” In truth, I wasn’t sure.  We weren’t careful and if I was not pregnant then there had to be some kind of magic involved—perhaps a well meaning gesture in the form of a charmed amulet.

             “You know I would be happy either way,” he said, planting a soft kiss on my forehead.

             “I love you, Jules.”

          “Good night, my Anne.”  Julan hung around the encampment with Mashti  making a plan for her reintroduction to the tribe.  I walked off  into the Grazelands and found a lonely tree in the distance.  I wanted to watch the wheat dance with the sky.  Twirling the Moon-and-Star round my finger, I thought of the mission before me and how it all boiled down to religion.  The Abbey had drilled the various virtues Nine Divines in my head and taught us our flawed Emperor was descended from a God.  Perhaps it was Kat’s doing, for she laughed at these “moon-yowlings” and thus I never took them seriously.  I usually was the first out of the pew when the service ended, if I was not sleeping. How strange that I would be named Nerevarine.  I thought the gods must laugh at us all.    As the sun went down with a glass of wine, I walked into Mashti yurt, holding in my hands her wedding dress.  “Sera. I had wanted you to see this, and to tell you….”

         “Call me mother—or at least Mashti!”  I smiled at this, though I could never call her mother.  I reserved that privilege for Kat alone, the only mother I had ever known. “Julan told me this morning.  I am very happy for you both.”

            “I plan on wearing this when we marry.” Mashti, smiled holding her face with her hands.

            “You kept this?”

            “I think you knew I would.”  

She approached me and took both my hands.    “You will be happy.  This I know.”

          “But…will I ever be accepted?  I mean, other tribe members or Dunmer?  I see the way they look at me…well, at least the other women in the tribe.”

           “You’re asking this of an outcast?”

            “Former outcast, Mashti…former,” I said smiling.

           “Annika,” she turn me to face her and spoke seriously, “Anni…it matters not if they accept you; only that you are loved by whom you love best.  Forget the others…or at least try to ignore them…Besides, you won me over, and that was a task no other woman—not even Dunmer—could ever do.  Just love each other and all else will melt into the ground.”

        “Mashti, one more question” I asked hesitantly…”What did you enchant that necklace with?”  Her hands dropped and she stepped back.    Her eyes darted quickly.  I had caught her off guard.  She quickly handed me a half truth.  

“Julan should have already explained this to you it was for restoration.”

            “But there’s something else, isn’t there Mashti?  Something that maybe you didn’t quite explain.”

            “I added protection to it…Annika.”

            “Protection from what?”

             She glared at me, “Foolishness.  And regretted mistakes.”

            “Whatever do you mean?” I asked coldly.

          “Do not play stupid Annika, it doesn’t suit you.”  She walked towards me, this time looking me directly in the eyes, reaching for my hand. “I didn’t want you filling my shoes, or that of your mother’s.  Think, Anni!  History repeats it self.  I know that Julan would not hurt you intentionally, but…I had hoped you would have waited for some kind of guarantee, alas you didn’t.” She sighed.  “Please don’t despise me—it was for yours and his best interest. You were born a bastard, Annika and I spent my life shielding one.  Please—.”

I dropped her hand.  “I took off this morning and would have tossed it in the sea, Mashti had it not been such a special gift.  Julan and I are the masters of our fate now.”

            She sighed, resigned.  “I had hoped for—well, for much…maybe too much or our relationship.”

            “No.  I only wish you would deal plainly with me.”

           “Fine.  Then let me be blunt.  You have a monster to face.  Annika, how will you swing a sword with a large belly?  Julan is not the Nerevarine—nor can he be.  Ai…I had thought you wise beyond your years…”   

I stopped.  She was right. No long term attachments, Casius had said.  Now I understood his meaning, even if he did not know the significance of it at that time.   I had gotten swept up in the romance of the last couple of months.  This time Mashti’s machinations had served us well.  I put the necklace back on as I was walking out of her yurt.

“Annika,” I stopped and turned towards the small woman standing in the corner of the yurt..  “Go safely, with my blessing—whatever you decide.”

“Good-bye, Mashti…and thank you.”