It seems like we have nothing to lose, so we can only win.. Well, that was the scariest morning in my life, counting the time baroness Raith sent a wall of fire over Il Ayande (or Jomhur) that hit our ship. I’m not exaggerating, and if I didn’t have my dignity as leader of the tribe to uphold I’d be in Thamsin’s arms, whimpering. When I told her that, she was amused and wanted to give it a go… But let me go back in mind to what happened — because there’s a lot here that’s quite important to remember correctly. So the King returned from his hunting expedition, with remarkably little fanfare. He went through the camp, through the gate and into his palace, not cheered on much, if at all. But it was ominous. Very ominous when the King’s adviser, the mage Naranbataar, came to our tent after doing the rounds of the other tribal chiefs’ tents and told us that for reasons of impending famine and sickness all the tribes had to move two days away from the central camp site. Good way to make sure that nobody has an army handy to fight the King! We […]

Ferin is a lot more coherent and comprehensive than Ailin in this episode. Our children are back! I’m so relieved. When they left us by way of the underground river near the big gorge, I was really angry. Hm, maybe that’s the wrong word. Well, it was difficult to figure out what I thought or felt. They had left us a message, true, but they had gone without telling anyone, and left our tribe without any children. We went after them of course, looking for them with our spirits, only realizing when it was too late that they had crammed themselves all in that hollowed-out log sorry excuse for a boat down the hole, near the underground river. But Fikmet assured us that they were taking a safer route than us, and that we would see them again, that they hadn’t left the tribe. I just hope that next time they’ll realize they can discuss their plans with us, and that we’re unlikely to object to a good plan! So we went on, and on — until at long last we came to a forest-like area, where there were wolves, water and snow. But Ailin has told of that already. […]

Without everything that happened to Ailin, though Ferin was watching over her all the time that it happened. Our tribe is growing. I really think it deserves to be called that, now that we’ve conquered another group of Khas and added half a dozen men to our strength. Not an unmixed blessing, because we lost Batuldzi in the fight. It’s strange, though, these four women want to be become fighters, have been training as fighters, and have become quite good, too. But losing one of them makes me think we should perhaps keep them back. What’s the use of finding the king if all the women who want to find him are dead? On the other hand, what’s the use of finding that king if, after all, all those women are dependent on their protectors. It’s a tough question, and I’m not sure I’ve got the answer. It happened yesterday. We had been trekking over the plains for a couple of weeks since the mice, and hadn’t encountered any people whatsoever. So when Fikmet found fresh camel tracks, we were a bit wary. Ailin looked around with semsin that evening, and found about ten people camping out in the vicinity. […]

This time, we know where we’re going but not how long it will take! Navigating in the Khas way is a useful skill to learn, though. We left late in the morning… After some more sword training, semsin training, reading and writing and lots of good advice. Which rather set the tone for our journey! We were still a respectable crew, and we had two camels, good weapons and everything we needed, including two mysterious sticks that Sepideh had mooched off commander Faran. It was raining a bit, more drizzling, but we were all quite eager to be off again, somehow Ailin and I had gotten infected with the need for the open plains and the wide horizons. Or something. We got into a good habit of practice and study: stories, semsin, Ilaini (so we’d have a secret language when at the king’s court!) reading and writing and other skills (like cooking) in the evenings, sword fighting (Mahar was pretty good at that), wrestling, knife throwing, slingshot work and more of that kind of thing in the mornings. We’d break up camp late, strike camp early and make sure we made good progress, both as in distance and as in […]

Ailin will have it known that snakes aren’t slimy! They’re dry and firm and smooth and altogether awesome. And then we were twenty! I haven’t counted exactly, let me do that… Ailin and me, and Thamsin. The kids: Fikmet, Tascal, Mahar, Raham, Makhane and Bayat. “My” women: Odgerel, Sepideh, Batuldzii and Sarangerel (I got their names exactly now, because I’m teaching everyone to read and write). From the village, Phuli with her kids Behen and Atayu, and also the widow Serla. And then the Sithi merchant Thalai and his boy Bar and soldiers Sanyat and Ishi. That makes twenty-one. Not bad when you consider that that witch Mina was trying to keep everyone in the village with her foul songs! For a while, life in the village was quite fun. I got to play a land-lubberly kind of bosun, making sure the layabouts in this village got a field day or two, three. And none too soon! The creepers on the tents, the leatherwork, the cording — I had them all cleaned and repaired. Made some of the men — uncle Taschal might have a leg-and-a-half, but he could handle a broom, dammit! — clear the rubbish between the tents. […]

I like Ferin! Though Ailin is exasperated with him at times. (And he with her; they’re exactly like brother and sister at the moment.) In other news, this is an adventure story, danger and all. I’ve taught her to say “no”. In Ilaini. I’m not sure whether that was stupid or not. I do know that I have had it with obedience — with owning women. Especially those four — and why I’m so pissed that Bayat owns Bakhmet, instead of me, and her daughter, I don’t know. In any case, I’ve taught her to say “no” to me. In Ilaini. It was on our way out of the village of Khusai, Khusai and his dozen women, girls and children, all his private property, except for my Thamsin. Well, I’m still not sure about myself — but Thamsin has been good for me. Ailin, too, and I’m afraid Ailin is getting jealous of Thamsin. And I’ve been around long enough that I cannot say, “I don’t know why!” Damn… Life is really complicated these days. So, to get back to the beginning, we’d moved out of Khusai’s village, that’s me, Ailin, Thamsin, Talai-the-Sithi-merchant, Tassel, Bayat, Mar, Makhane, Raham and little […]

I’m still wondering whether we didn’t harass a completely innocent hapless NPC, but there must be something behind it. So we suddenly had six kids with us… Fikmet, Tassel (Ailin tells me it’s “Tasgal”, but I don’t hear it that way), Mar, Makhane, Bayat and Ram. It was still quite early in the morning, and we decided to go down the gorge, to the plains where there were big, edible animals. I know I often sound a bit greedy, but then, I’m a big, beefy fellow. I can do without food, have done without food, often, but the last time we’d had something real to eat was in the fort, and I was looking forward to these big, beefy beasts that were edible. Yes, I was. Of course, I was courting disappointment. So we went down, the gorge took a turn to the south-west, and in under half an hour, long before I had expected it, we were on the plains. An endless amount of rolling hillocks with dry grass and low shrubbery. To the east, there was a steep cliff running north to south. Mar and Makhane told us there was a village to the south, and that’s the […]

I understood the names that Ferin spells “Tassel” and “Middaya” and as “Tasgal” and “Mitea”, but we’re probably both equally wrong. The other boys (the ones who were with the old woman) are Makane. Bayat and Ram. We didn’t want to join the camel, Khas and Síthi party, but we didn’t want to lose sight of them either. I knew nothing of the world beyond the fort, and neither did Ailin. We decided to wait for a while and then follow them. I thought it would be easy, after all, camels are like horses: they don’t use the chamber pot. It had been pretty cold that night: cold enough that we had almost but not quite cuddled together. We hadn’t counted on that, in Solay it had been warm, even hot. But we’d been climbing steadily all day yesterday through increasingly hilly country and, as I said, it was cold. So we begged a bunch of old blankets from Faran, who, I guess, didn’t really know what to think of us, but who was really helpful anyway. I quickly cut two of the blankets and sewed them together into longish, rough, warm jackets. What there was to spare from Ailin’s […]

Here’s Ferin telling the first part of the new adventures. It’s promising! “Hey! That’s my goat! She escaped when I wanted to milk her!” And I thought it was dinner, running into my arms, on its own four feet, as it were. It was Aylin who was pursuing her — I know the girl. Quite a cute itty-bitty girl, well, woman, but unfortunately, like so many here in Solay badly treated by their Khas overlords. Me, that’s Ferin. I’m from Tilis, and I’ve been on a boat since I was four, and on sea since I was nine. Eight years later, I arrived here in Solay with the King’s army and left my nice, steady job as third mate on the Black Swan of Lenyas, or Our Wicked Witch as we call her in honor of baroness Raith, who once put nearly all the cordage and canvas to fire with her firestorm off the coast of Iss-Peran. I decided to stay here because there are cute, itty-bitty girls (only the one I stayed for apparently had a boyfriend, a half-Khas ex-soldier!), good food — and of course, the Princess! Now that’s a woman to die for! I was one of […]