Azaria (17 page)

"I missed you too!!" Azaria squealed as she swung him around in her arms. She hadn't realized how much she missed the little hellraiser until she was holding him. As she bent to let him down and allow Grayfoot to lick her face, she looked over to her grinning parents, still standing there waiting for her. Letting her brother go, she ran toward them. But as she neared, her heart dropped. Her mother was leaning on her father, smiling, but appearing very thin and weary.
What happened to mother? Her hair is gray and she looks frail. She looks... old!

5

Azaria slowed as she approached her parents.
Why has mother aged so? I could have mistaken her for Fahim had I not known that smile so well.
She held her arms out as she approached. "Mother, I missed you sooo much!"

"I missed you too, daughter! Welcome back," Zephia answered, her voice weak and hoarse.

She's coughing still. There's dark circles under her eyes and her hair is graying. How could it turn gray so quickly?
Alarmed, but knowing her concern must wait, she swiveled to her father. "Father! It's so good to be back. I missed all of you!" She wrapped her arms around his thick neck, offering no resistance as he swept her into his powerful arms, pulling her off the ground in a great bear hug.
Father has aged too,
she noticed.
It's more subtle, but I can see it clearly. He must be worried about mother.

"We've all missed you, daughter!" he boomed. "I suspect more than you'll ever know."

"I don't know about that. I thought about all of you every sun and moon," she laughed.

The four walked together back to their shelter, one of Azaria's hands in her father's and the other around her mother. She could feel the weight as Zephia leaned on her during the walk back.
Have I grown so much or is mother shrinking? What’s happened to her?

As they left the gathering area, Azaria craned her neck, searching in all directions for one other person. She finally spotted him standing off to the side. Her heart racing, wishing she could run to him, she set her emotions in check, settling instead for a warm smile. When his sparkling, hazel-shaded eyes smiled back at her, she knew nothing had occurred during her lengthy absence that would change what they’d begun. They would continue where they'd left off.

As she walked with her father up a rather steep hill to the southwest, Azaria demanded to know what had happened to her mother, as if she expected him to account for the changes in her appearance. She knew her tone was overly interrogative, but her panic had only grown as she'd sat with her sickly mother after her return, afraid to even leave her side. It was only her deep need to question him that compelled her to leave her mother at all.

They stopped when they reached the top of the hill, and stood atop a bluff overlooking a wide valley below. A small pack of red deer grazed beneath them and farther off a much, much larger herd of aurochs was slowly passing through. Azerban made a mental note to inform Irizahner, Dogahn's father, of the sighting. He was planning a hunt for the end of summer, and would appreciate the information. Above, a small black mass appeared on the horizon. Azerban watched it grow as he pondered a reply to his daughter's question. The size of the cloud was increasing rapidly as it approached them, a formless mass, now taking up a good part of the sky. He watched as it approached the setting sun and then eclipsed it, blocking all its life-giving rays. The giant shadow the cloud created fell on them and the sky darkened. Several very long moments passed while Azerban stood speechless, awe-struck in its shadow, although he'd seen the same phenomenon before. Then, just as abruptly as it had come, the mass passed the blazing, golden orb and diminished as the infinite flock of small avians continued their migration.

"She’s ill, Azaria," he answered, as gently as he could manage. "Her
little
cough has grown, and is now overwhelming her. It drains her energy and saps her strength. I'm grateful you're finally back, but I'm afraid your stay will be brief. I wish I didn't need to ask this of you, but you must return to the Temple and speak to Fahim. She’s our most skilled healer, as you know, an expert in treating the ill. I need her guidance. The remedies Takur and I have tried have done little to help her. I'm at a loss as to what to try next."

Azaria was speechless at first, worried sick and helplessly frustrated. "Of course I’ll go father. I'll leave right now. I can be there and back before the sun rises." She turned and walked toward the heart of their encampment, her head down in consternation.

"Azaria, you can't go tonight. You’ll leave at dawn."

"Why, father? We need help now!" she said, turning back to him.

"There's too much danger, Azaria. Predators prowl at night. They'll have no inhibitions in attacking under the curtain of night's shadow - even on a well-traveled path."

Azaria, realizing the truth in her father's words, acceded reluctantly. All at once, the built up emotions of the past few suns, added together with the shock of returning to find her mother ill and the frustration of helplessness, exploded in an outpouring of tears. She threw her arms around his neck, letting his sturdy arms envelop her.

Before the sun had risen the next morning, Azaria had memorized every word her father had told her. They went over the instructions again before she left, to make sure she had it right. Azaria needed no refreshing.

She ran with the wind, starting off at a much faster clip than she had during the Long Run. She assumed she wouldn't be able to keep it up for the whole run and slowed slightly to pace herself, but kept on at a rate that would’ve far outpaced every other runner.
I can rest when I get there. I'm sure it will take Fahim a while to come up with instructions and then I'll pace myself on the way back - if I need to. Tonight I can sleep, but now I must fly. I wish Fahim was correct,
she thought ironically as she bounded forward.
I wish I was a Bird-Runner, and could sprout the sparrow's wings.

When she arrived, just as the sun was showing itself, both Izyl and Fahim were shocked, questioning her more than once on exactly when she’d left and how she could’ve made the run so quickly. In a way though, Fahim wasn’t surprised. She’d suspected her Second’s daughter was special. The feat only affirmed her belief the Watchers loved her and that a great destiny awaited her.

Azaria set out again after the sun had passed its highest point, a treated leather pouch filled with precious medicine in her grasp and a soaring, grateful spirit in her heart. Her pace nearly matched the one she started out with that morning, but she soon realized she’d not be able to sustain it. Her earlier courageous sprint had come with a price. Very quickly Azaria found herself winded, standing frustrated in the middle of the path, clutching her side. It became a struggle to put each foot in front of the other, as if heavy logs had been bound to them. Each breath was tortuous, sending shivers of pain along the muscles in her lower torso.

Her mission was too important to abandon however and Azaria kept on, although the sun was already falling with almost half of the return journey remaining. A nagging fear was eating at her, growing in strength as the brightness eased. Alone, hungry and compromised was a scary proposition with a dark night threatening. A cloak of stifling panic was collapsing around her, when she was come upon by a four-legged savior - Grayfoot, who was luckily out that way hunting or scouting or doing whatever it was young dogs did. She gratefully commanded him to fetch her father and was soon greeted again by a couple of Boar Camp hunters.

The first man stopped in front of her. "It seems the great Bird-Runner has had her wings clipped, Jochan.”

Azaria ignored their laughter. “Jochan, Brutim! I’m so happy to see you. I need help!”

“Ahhh...” Brutim continued. “So she needs our aid. What should we ask of her in return?"

"Be quiet, Brutim!" the other man chided, his laugh turning to concern. "The Watchers look unkindly on those who take advantage of one in need. Brutim was only having his fun, Azaria. Are you hurt? Your father has been anticipating your return."

"Always playing the hero, Jochan! I was only joking - of course we'll help you, Azaria."

Although she knew the hunters and recognized Brutim posed little threat, she didn't like his smile nearly as much as Jochan's. "Thank you, both!" she answered. "I’m not injured so much as sore. Did you happen to see Grayfoot on your way here?"

"Was that black terror Grayfoot?" Brutim asked. "I almost put a spear through him I was so startled."

"I've never seen anything run so fast. He didn't even look at us as he ran by. Wherever he was going, he was determined," Jochan added. "And he came out of nowhere. He certainly gave me a fright too."

"Yeah, that sounds like Grayfoot," Azaria laughed.

"Get on my back, Azaria," Jochan said. "We’ll carry you the rest of the way."

It was an uncomfortable ride, but she was thankful for the two hunters’ willingness to interrupt whatever they'd been doing.

Soon Azaria saw her Father running toward them down the path, Grayfoot nipping at his heels, barking loudly. "Father!" she yelled as Jochan let her down. "Father, I have the medicine! How is mother?!"

The imposing Second Ta'araki of Boar Camp ran toward his daughter and enclosed her in his arms, easily picking her up and swinging her around. "Azaria!! You've returned."

"Father!" she exclaimed. "How is mother?"

"She's sleeping, young one, although Grayfoot woke her for a moment. But why was Jochan carrying you? Are you hurt?"

"Not injured as much as sore, Father," Azaria said, ignoring the specifics. "Jochan and Brutim were kind enough to carry me back. They deserve something in return." She turned to smile at the two bronzed men.

Jochan was the first to object. "There’s no debt, Ta'araki. Our hearts are with your hearth. We only wish we could do more. And we didn't carry her far. I'll take her the rest of the way, if you wish to bring the medicine back to your mate."

"Thank you, Jochan! And Brutim!" Azerban embraced each man as he spoke their names. "I’ll take you up on that offer. There is a debt however. Call on me when you find need." He hugged his daughter once more before sprinting back to Boar Camp with the precious pouch full of medication in hand.

When Jochan let her down again, safely returned in front of her shelter, Azaria reached up to embrace each of them. "Are you sure there’s nothing I can repay you with?" she asked, looking from one to the other.

Brutim smiled and shook his head. On the way back she'd gotten to know the two mature men a little better and decided Brutim was one of those with tough talk, but a kind heart. She also noticed he was better behaved in front of her father. "And you, Jochan?" she asked, taking note of his strong facial structure and muscular build.

"No, of course not, Bird-Runner," he smiled. Azaria was surprised to find she didn't flinch at his use of the moniker. "Unless..." he began, continuing when she raised her brow expectantly, "unless I could have your arm for a dance at the Matrimonials?"

"Of course!" she responded. "I’d be honored." Azaria's smile widened as she met his gaze, not noticing the small grin on her father's face. Jochan returned the smile before the two left. She watched them go before hurrying to her mother’s side.

"Mother, mother, I'm back," she said softly.

Zephia's eyes opened slightly. "Azaria?" Her voice was hoarse, little more than a whisper. "Where've you been? I've missed you," she coughed.

"It's okay, mother. Don't speak. I'm back now." She handed her father a flat, round stone Fahim had given her, bearing a mess of incomprehensible scratches on one side. "I forgot to give this to you. Ta'araki said you’d know what it meant."

He stared at the stone intently, turning it over before he spoke, "Yes, daughter, I do. I wondered why she'd not given you instructions. I held off on administering the medicine, hoping you may have forgotten. Fetch me a cup." He mixed a small amount of the dark liquid with fresh water, sniffed at it briefly and placed his hand behind his mate's head, lifting it gently as he brought the bone cup to her lips, "Drink this, Zephia. It will be bitter, but you must take all of it."

Zephia did as commanded and coughed again, dribbling a small amount down her chin. "It's disgusting, Azerban," she exclaimed. "You’d poison an old lady? Hoping for a fresh, young woman?" Despite her obvious discomfort, Zephia smiled lovingly at her mate. Azaria watched in disbelief, astonished her mother could tease under such conditions. Seeing the tears pool in her daughter's eyes, Zephia turned to her. "You cry too easily, daughter. You must learn to be strong..." She stopped short, her face tightening into a harsh grimace as she fought to stem a new bout of coughing.

"Mother, don't try to talk," Azaria smiled. "Don't worry, I'll chase away all the young women."

Happy for the rest, Azaria sat with her mother until she slept, recounting the events of her journey. Zephia was moved and somewhat horrified her daughter had gone through so much for her. Azerban listened with pride and wonder, but turned stony-faced when he learned of the exceptional interest Fahim had displayed in his daughter’s amazing feat.

---

As the hottest suns of summer passed, the blinding orb continued to set a little farther south on the horizon with each pass. Azaria was sitting at the top of a small mound outside of Boar Camp, wishing the intense heat would break soon. She and Dogahn came to the little hill regularly now, a site young couples often visited as it afforded a spectacularly romantic view of the setting sun and was far enough away from the bustle of the three camps to allow a little privacy. She was sitting between Dogahn's legs, leaning back into him with her arms folded over his. She watched as magnificent cumulus fractus clouds transformed from white to lavender, soft raspberry and several stunning shades of orange and dull gold. It always amazed her how many different colors the Mother used to paint Her world, from the vibrant flowers in the earth and the birds on the wind to the ever changing subtler colored layers in the western evening sky. Just when she thought she'd seen them all, the Mother would present a new one, as if to remind Her Children of Her infinite power.