4. Kassir made no mention of what had taken place with Linir. He studied his parents carefully for a while, and realised that it was true: he could notice something amiss in their dealings with him. Rashed was always cautious with him. He looked at Kassir as if he was seeing something the others could not. As for Malna…she was more confusing. She was either possessive or cold. And Kassir was too young to understand why. But he thought he knew the cause now.
In the days following the confrontation with Linir, Kassir’s playmates met as usual. Linir was there too. He did not talk about the fight. In fact, he was overly attentive to Kassir, choosing only games he knew the younger boy would enjoy. It should have mollified Kassir – only he did not think Linir’s words could ever be taken back. The mistrust and the tension were still there. And Kassir noticed now that it was not only Linir who felt that way. The others of their group were just the same.
And yet, they stayed with Kassir – through all the years of uncertainty. But later Kassir was to admit to himself that they had not stayed for friendship’s sake, as much as for fear of what he might do to them, if they abandoned him completely.
Two weeks after Kassir’s eight birthday, the stranger came. He arrived at dusk in weather-beaten clothes and worn boots, trailing the dust of many miles behind him. He was a tall man with yellow hair and green eyes, like many of his kind. But he was no mere villager, nor could he be only a merchant. Despite the state of his clothes that told of the many days on the road, there was something in him that spoke of a very high social status. He held himself proud and looked at the villagers as though they existed solely for him.
No one liked him when they first saw him, not the herders leading their flocks home, who met him on the road, nor the curious villagers who came to have a look at him when he entered their settlement. But their laws forbade them from turning the traveller away, especially when he came looking for shelter. And he did not waste any time in demanding it. He stood a while measuring the villagers with his impassive stare. Presently, his eyes fell on Rashed who was standing with his hands on Kassir’s shoulder, as if he was expecting the boy to bolt.
“You will do quite nicely.”
“Do what, my lord?” Rashed inquired cautiously.
“I cannot go any further tonight. I need shelter. You will give it to me.”
Rashed hesitated.
“I am sorry, my lord,” he attempted to protest. “But my hut is only a small one and I share it with my woman and three children. There would not be much room in it for a guest. Surely someone living alone could be better suited…”
The stranger cut him off with a quick shake of his head.
“I chose you. And you must give me shelter. I am a helper of the Sun Priests. I bear the Brightest One’s permission to go anywhere I please and seek lodgings from whoever I please. Surely you are not trying to tell me, villager, that you would deny shelter to the servants of the Sun Priests.”
Rashed gasped. No one of such importance had been in his village for as long as he could remember, not openly at least. Turning him away would have been an offence punishable by death.
“Of course, my lord,” he said quickly. “I did not wish to imply I would not give you anything that you asked for. I only meant that…well, my lodgings would be quite unsuitable for someone of your importance.”
The traveller looked from Rashed to his eldest son, again. He shook his head.
“Oh, you need worry about that,” he told Rashed calmly. “I think it will suit my designs quite well.”
Rashed had no choice but to agree. He sent Kassir ahead to inform Malna of the guest, so that he might give her some time to prepare. The rest of the villagers dispersed, looking at Rashed rather enviously. Now that they knew the traveller’s important status, they were wishing he would have chosen to stay with one of them. They knew Rashed’s own status would rise in the following days.
Meanwhile, Rashed was wondering why the traveller had chosen him in the first place, especially after he had pointed out there would not be much room in his hut. Had it been only the random whim of a capricious man? Or had the choice been not so arbitrary, after all? Perhaps the traveller had been planning to stay with him all along. Perhaps Rashed was not only a stop along the way, but the very destination of this man. Rashed had been expecting a representative of the priests and priestesses ever since Kassir was born.
5. The stranger – who finally deigned to tell Rashed his name was Ranar – had no cause to complain about how he was received in the camel-herder’s home. Malna proved an excellent hostess. She offered Ranar everything that a tired traveller needed: water to wash off the dust of his journey, plenty of food and warm milk and a place to sleep. But Rashed noticed a small reticence in the way Malna treated Ranar and how she was reluctant to have Kassir near him. Rashed wondered whether she did not have her own suspicions as to why Ranar was in their house and was not really surprised that these too centred on Kassir.
Despite Malna’s attempts, Kassir and Ranar did manage to talk to each other. It was nothing out of the ordinary, though, only a well-travelled man indulging a curious child. Ranar did not divulge any secrets about his work for the Sun Priests. He merely talked about the wonders he had seen on his many journeys. At the same time, Kassir was rather taciturn about himself too.
Ranar did not reveal his true reasons for being there until the next morning. They left Malna’s cottage at dawn and Rashed went with Ranar to see him out of the village and show him the way to the nearest settlement, as was the custom in those parts. For a while, they walked without saying much. It was only when they were quite far from the village that Ranar began to speak.
“I noticed that you were careful not to ask anything about why I might be in your village.”
“We are taught not to question the dealings of the Priests and Priestesses, my lord,” Rashed pointed out. “I thought it would not be my place to ask where you are bound.”
Ranar cast the farmer a sharp glance.
“Well said. Only this time, I think you know you would have been entitled to ask – seeing as my errand concerns you and your family closely.”
“Kassir,” Rashed spoke, almost against his will.
Ranar nodded.
“Kassir,” he agreed. “The strange child I have heard so much about – born on the second rainy night of the year and already bearing signs of strange powers – which, I might add you are partly responsible for.”
“I did make a vow nine years ago. I wanted Kassir’s mother and I thought only with the help of the Rain Goddesses would she be willing to live by my side. I was young then. I thought no price was too high.”
Ranar’s eyes narrowed, silently warning his guide not to continue that way of thinking, not in his presence.
“No price would have been high enough for the Rain Goddesses,” he said sharply. “But you suggested your firstborn son.”
“Actually,” Rashed pointed out daringly, “It was Priestess Cunna who suggested this particular bargain.”
Ranar ignored that.
“Whoever suggested it, you did offer your firstborn to the Gods. And yet no priest has been called here.”
The fear haunting Rashed for so long clutched him by the throat. Was this it, then? Was this the day he would lose his son? Had the time come for Kassir to be taken from him?
“My lord,” he began desperately. “My son is young…a child still…I could not think of any reasons the Gods would have need of him now…”
Ranar nodded quickly, putting a stop to the panicked ranting.
“Of course,” he said reasonably. “We have no need of one so young and Kassir is not even considered one of us until he passes his initiation rites. When he does - well, then you must tell him the truth. Oh, not about how you effectively sold him to the Gods,” he added quickly, guessing the meaning behind Rashed’s stricken face. “That you can keep to yourself. But you are going to tell him the truth about what he is. And that was what I was sent here to find out. My task was not easy. Your son did not tell me much – but I could read the signs. I had them at his age too, after all. Besides, after so many years, it’s not hard to sense others of my kind.
“Tell me – have there ever been instances when your son could see things others could not? Or hear something that was too far away?”
Rashed thought hard. Over the years, he realised now, Kassir had developed a kind of strange wariness no child should feel. He was always careful about what he said and did. But at times, he forgot himself and talked about seeing things that were too far away.
“I only thought that he had better eyesight than most,” he said lamely.
To his surprise, Ranar agreed.
“That he has. And hearing too. It will grow with time. Your son is a Light-tender and he will be a very good one, too, I might add. Better than most – better than me, I think.”
Rashed stopped in his tracks. He gaped at his guest. His Kassir a Light-tender? His long-ago vow had lad to something like that?
There were many in the desert with gifts from the Gods. They dreamed of the future, or had the strength of ten men or the speed of the wind. They dedicated their lives to the service of the Gods and Goddesses, for how else could they show their gratitude? But Light-tenders were the best of them all – they were held in high esteem. With sight and hearing greater than any normal human, the Light-tenders were in a position to be the Priesthood’s perfect helpers.
They answered only to the High Priest of the Sun Gods and had the freedom to move anywhere, unhindered. If that was to be Kassir’s life, it would at least not be dull. But it would be terribly lonely, a life spent mostly on the road, without the chance to settle down anywhere and form a family of his own. Light-tenders dedicated all their days to the Gods. They did not have room for anything else. And Rashed knew now that when Kassir grew up he would not have room for him and Malna anymore.
“Kassir will not be taking up my trade, will he?”
“Of course not,” Ranar was swift to reply. “At fifteen he will be told the truth. At sixteen he will join the caravan that brings tributes to the Temple of the Sun Gods.”
And after that, Rashed thought, he would probably never see Kassir again. Ranar did not say this, but he did not have to. Kassir would be on the road all the time, travelling from one settlement to another. There were few chances that he would ever be back to his native village.
“Say nothing of this,” Ranar warned him. “Speak of it only to Malna and to the village priest. He should know. But make sure your son does not know, not until he passes his initiation rites. It will be hard for him until then, people will constantly suspect something to be wrong with him. But what comes after will make up for this. The life of a Light-tender is, after all, a very interesting one.”
But, as Rashed watched the Light-tender move away, a long journey still ahead of him, he could not help wondering if that was not something Ranar told himself to make his nomadic life more bearable.
Copyright Simina Lungu 2022
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