Scrolls of the Prophet
Book I
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Sad Fate of Demise
"OH TAV..!" Maggy sighed, "The gods have truely blessed me with the one who completes the race first..!" Her voice was in a deep murmur as she lowered her shoulders from my touch and rested her face against my chest. With a quickened heartbeat, I felt her breaths of satisfaction while the light that shined around us began to darken and dim. It felt as if the gods would be willing, and while holding her close, I wondered, if later I would finally feel the caress of her soft, covered flesh as it bathed me in a most splendorous delight.
With a sudden move of gratification she locked her arms around me and squeezed my body firmly in her show of affection. My mind swooned from the joyful intoxication of it and I wasted no time as I clasped my palms on the small of her back and pulled her in deeper.
As I did so, she gasped, and once more I came to feel the moistness from her watering-eyes as they transferred their coolness to the waves of new chill-bumps which criss-crossed my skin. On this occurrence, there came no feeling from the heavy weight of my heart's sadness, but instead, we grew closer and closer to a cast of love's openness and the corresponding wholeness of two lovers' mindsets. She sank into my arms like the bank of a river, more strongly than before.
"What is it, Tav..?" she offered, her voice a fragile whisper which teetered on the edge of a sleep's gentle embrace. Boldly, I slipped away from her hold, though the rising flame which grew in me had threatened to consume all that I understood or took reason. My head spun like a top that was caught up in a tempest, and I yielded to the mysterious call which came summoned from within me—a call I neither understood nor wanted to resist...
Maggy was a precious gem to my thinking, and I dared not offend her or falt her sensibilities in any given way; this made me provide actions that were all the more precise and cautious, for I lacked experience in such matters and how to properly endulge my gestures. As I gently withdrew from the warmth of her embrace, I repressed my desires until our bodies had parted.
"You must return to your guardian's hearth before the sun's-set has completely darkened. I shall join you at dusk at the arrival of tomorrow, and meet with your guardian to seek out his permission for your dowry for walking...After our meeting is fulfilled...dearest, Maggy...I will inform both he and Marseda of our steadfast intentions to bind up our promises...Now go forth to your hearth so I may go out on my own and find a suitable barter—seven-talents of silver...though it hard to acquire...should suffice for the honor of your dowry for walking...But have Marseda send word to your two-aunts in their waiting who will watch over you closely, and hold back from your reveal of our purposal to Diensun—for I feel it much better to catch him unprepared..," I said with assurance, my confidence in quickness to drink up the full breadth of her image before I withdrew.
"As you desire—my honored..!" she replied rather politely, her tone obedient in a way I had never witnessed from her before. She stepped back from my captivation and obvious gaze, and seemed to drink me in fully as she took her first steps. For a fleeting moment, I saw her eyes widen their focus, her attentions drawn out to the swelling that had betrayed me in the rising course of my desires. Then, with a shy, gleeful smile, she lowered her vision and diverted her eye-sight away from one's blatant evidence of elevated fire.
I blushed deeply, my cheeks burned from the embarrassment of being caught in such a moment. I then hastily bent down to gather up both of our knaps in an effort to conceal my indiscretion. Though a clumsy gesture at first, it succeeded in successfully hiding my reveal from any gaps in her sight.
"Do turn away...princess...so one might mount upon your knap..," I said with a quiet satisfaction while knowing that her eyes might have then been diverted. Earlier, we had exchanged the fruits of our barter. I had gifted her with the undamaged texts of a particular "Kemit-Egyptian" stone-plate, it had been scribed in its for with an old "Coptic" language that I had recognized well. Her task was to translate the ancient tongue and scripe it into a more modern script, prepare it on parchment for a soon barter or trade. In return, she presented me with a set of recently transcribed stone-tablets which I thoght to be originally written in the tongue of the "Hebu", a language which she had converted into a more easily versed "Greek". Maggy had explained that this text bore the title, "The Vision of Enoch...," and how she had transcribed it on parchment, it would not only be valuable but exceedingly rare...
She conveyed softly, "These are the words of the unseen god of Abraham...his words poken when the deity had first chosen to call upon man..," and then she slid the length of the rolled scroll carefully into my knap. Though not well-versed in the knowledge of "Greeks", I accepted the words she had given with gravity and a weight of resolve and decided to bring the texts to the older wise man who dwelled high above my rope-tent in a cave-hearth which was perched at the base of the "Edom Mountains".
Master Netramie had made his home within that cave which rested on the gentle rise of the slopes. From the many days that I had spent in his company, I knew that if questions were to arise, it would be he, the venerable master, who would inevitably hold the rite key. Especially if there were ripe figs or sweet dates to be had...
Maggy said nothing, yet I sensed a newfound lightness in her spirit, a deep, unseen smile that now graced her lips. She turned away from me slowly, an action in turn whid had offered out to my view with her slender curve of back. And with an effortless motion, I set my worn knap at my feet and reached out with my palm, this allowed me for the first time to feel the silkiness which came provided by her river of dark-hair. And as my fingers became entangled in her fat-gathered strands, my desires stirred greatly, and though I tried to gather all of my thoughts in one-place, I found it only mind only slid dreamily right from my grasp.
Until now, our infrequent touches had been innocent at best—kidish nose-nuzzles that had brought forth flushed cheeks and stifled giggles. But now, to run my hands through the full cascade of its flow, this was a far more tempting sensation than I could've deserved. With the weight of her knap now set before me, I seized the perfect excuse to fulfill such a longing.
"Was it all that you hoped for..?" she teased at me gently before snickering discreetly.
"Here...let me...Tav..," she called in a gesture as she lifted the bundle and masterfully armed it overhead. Effortlessly, she gathered the mass of her hair in a group and swept it from her back until its runs fell in a seamless wave across the full run of her front. From behind, I tilted my head as my eyes traced their ends and they drifted down smoothly to come and rest at her knees.
"You do care for my locks..?" she asked slyly, a playful glint in her eyes.
I stood silent for a moment as my mouth fell agape, my own eyes fixated on the garden of short-hairs which trailed across the pale flesh of her neck. With a slow, deliberate motion, she gathered up any strays and passed them through my fingers. The friction that was provided while combined with the bare reveal of her neck, well it rivaled my thoughts as I drew heavy breaths. And once again I found myself swelled within pits of new desires.
"For the love of the gods..!" I murmured as the frustrations I held had laced over my voice.
"What did you say...my love..?" she teased, and then turned just enough to catch the new apparent partiality of rise within me.
"Nothing, sweet princess..," I replied at her quickly, in hopes to forestall any completion of her efforts to gain a full- turn's reveal. "I shall see you on the morrow...then..," I followed abruptly.
With tender care, I finished the final adjustment to her satchel, its purple-dyed strap had settled nicely over her shoulder. I masked my shame casually and hoisted my own knap to a shoulder before I then pushed her abruptly up on the steep embankment to the top-reach of the ditch. From below, I extended my palm with its offer of aid to a place on her bottom, this inevitably caused her to look before I climbed up to join her.
"Tav, what did you just—" she began, but I swiftly cut her off...
"On the morrow—on the morrow..!" I exclaimed with quick wit, and turned my back to her view with an awkward sidestep. I raised one-arm high, my palm flattened and open, and waved to her gingerly as I made my timely get-away.
Normally, I would have stood my ground and walked with her as she made her way down the narrow path to her guardian's hearth, but this late day's events had left me visibly exposed and somewhat swollen and uncomfortable in my currently moist situation. It felt wholly inappropriate to be seen in such a state, no matter how tempted I was by these new emotions in fate.
After she faded from sight, I broke into a more hurried stride as I shuffled in happiness through the twisting streets of "Madaba", I headed back in a quickness toward my own pitted-hearth. My mind churned—"was Maggy amused by my elevated condition...or just by the size of it..?" The thoughts only made my predicament feel more heavily uncomfortable as I tightened the coil which largely kept my self-awareness in check.
I had just crossed the outskirts of town and gained a short distance when the partial moon in its glow had showered me with kindness. The faint sparkle of emerging stars then joined the event with their ever-fading raspberry-hues cast into the sunset, and with the scene came my dawn and realization of the true-weight in approach of the oncoming challenges.
Here I was, the big beloved—alone—on the eve of a solemn journey to secure a love's promise. Not a fleeting little trifle, but a promise of stature that would require more than a mid-level regard, and one that I had yet to fulfill or fully grasp. It was a burden born from the heat of youthful passion, a dense swelling cloud which blocked out all reason. Surely no suitor should make such a consequential decision while his emotions were heated in a battle that clearly raged on from well deep within him.
The clan of Magdalana, they were no band of lowly wanderers like myself, and the honored guardian of their hearth, he would not give his only-child of bloodline away on a whim. Diensun, he would be no easy target to sway, and there would be a prescribed dowry for the walking to be paid—an initial court ceremony—and yet another, far grander, dowry to be given for the promise of the matrimony itself. Even travel expenses would be needed; gifts for the guardians, aunts, and other family members who would come from afar to watch out for her closely upon every moment of our courtship. All customs observed, immense precautions taken, every effort to preserve the girl's virtue and to safeguard the purity of her promise inacted until the sacred bond was fully sealed. Any mis-step might bring forth a family's disgrace, any whisper of scandal could stain the reputation of the entire clan. I found in such matters, the honored would be scrutinized as fiercely as the given promise itself.
"Our dowry for walking..," I thought, might it lie within reach; the need for a promised dowry, however, it would be an entirely different beast. I was confident in the fact that I could secure such a barter through my charms, or even perhaps the cleanliness from a bath, some fresh garments procured, and the addition of seven-silver-shekels. But the promised dowry I sought, it would demand far greater work—not only in coinage, yes.., but also in the acquisition of a suitable mud-brick shelter, a stable hearth for the betroven and a safe place for our bloodlines. I was afraid that the later expenses would prove far trickier to best.
Thankfully, it would be several moons'-pass before the greater dowry would be due. This left me with the hope that I might be able to gather up with enough shekels of silver to barter for the matrimony's promisarial agreement. That of course, if Diensun the man, wouldn't decide to pummel me to death first.
What I needed to solve this riddle, was to figure out just how I was going to obtain the proper body-covers required for our meeting of the morrow, and what persistant alchemy would be enacted to turn my few copper-talents into the making of ten-silver-coins. With three-silver-shekels, I could be covered in a most befitting dress, this would then leave me seven rounds in spare for Maggy's full walk. The whole ordeal was nerve-wracking to contemplate in the least.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
"Would seven be enough..?" I wondered out loud.
With a heavy heart which pounded hard to clear its hold from my chest, I pressed a solid palm to quick action and brushed away the day's build-up of dirt which encrusted my tunic. "What a soiled mess I am—no simple dowsing will do..!" Damp moisture gathered on my face as a lite sweat began to bead on my forehead, the confusion in my mind had wrestled with the quarry.
"Ten-silver-shekels then..," I muttered, and then ran the sum total over and over in contemplation, it was as if I had read the words aloud and they had magically summoned the coins into reality. "Ten-silver-shekels...Ten-silver-shekels..!" I boasted, and I found myself amazed when the answer struck me hard like a precisely weighted cart full of fattened mud-bricks fell upon my head..."Sir Tancred..!" I cried.
"Yes..," if I could track down the Great Master himself, surely he would be willing to barter a good deal for my parchment of "Enoch". The scroll must be worth something to someone, at least the three-shekels that I needed for an appropriate set of new coverings. Of all the mortals who'd been schooled in the art of such things, and with more than enough fine talents to spare, "Master Tancred" was the one...the only one...
The only question to consider, could I find the Great Master—"Knight of the Realm"—and strike a fair bargain before I needed to return to Madaba on the late-day of the morrow. "Possibly...yes—but plausible..?" That would be far less certain. And above all, "would the gods up above place favor on such an endeavor..?"
"Yes—yes—yes..!" I chuckled aloud, then quickened my pace. No longer would I be heading south toward my meager rope-tent and hearth, but now headed eastward and past the high desert plains where the much steeper mountain-passes that lead to the famed stetch of the, King's Highway of travel...
I had recalled my last words with the great "Master Tancred", and he had spoken of the fourteen-moons that were needed for both he and his caravan of knights to prepare for their trip to go northward, a legacy to guard a large contingency of people who would travel the road. And if I I cared to meet up with them before the end of their travel, I'd need to be decisive and intercept them quickly. I remembered how our conversation had stirred from just eighteen-moons ago, and how I reckoned that if the group hadn't left yet, their encampment at the "Edom Mountains" might now be close to their move toward the more northern steps that climbed up "Mount Nebo".
My best chance to intercept them was to travel further north and along the ridges that led to "Mount Nebo", and from their, chart a course which held close to its most western slope. Then continue on to the King's Highway of travel so that I might arrive closer upon their cross-over at the wide banks of the "Jabbok River".
"To the Jabbok..!" I said sternly, and then shifed my course once again—now I headed in a more northwesterly angularity and toward the hold of the big mountain. Within a steady pace, I aimed to reach the brunt of the "King's Highway" by the pass of mid-night, and then press on further through the arrival of morning until I came upon the "Jabbok River" itself.
Beneath the thick glow of the moon, I sped across the star-lit desert. And only after my offer of much tromping, the tall peaks of "Mount Nebo" began to tower out before me. I trotted through the endless foothills and unforgiving steppes at its base, the cool night air keeping me extra hard-thinking as the three-quarter-moon reliably guided my steps.
Near the foothills, the desert turned to a more suitable slant of of sand-swept dunes which then curved around a steep berm, and here, in the darkness, I came upon two-shadowy forms as they lay spread-eagle on the ground—"sleeping..," I suspected... "Silent..," for sure... I hoped in a fever as I crept ever forward...my heart in anxiety as it intensely pounded...
"Travelers..," I whispered, but very carefully so as not to make them startle. Yet their forms remained still... I clinched my teeth and quietly stepped closer, nerves frayed; the quietness of their forms unnerved me. When I was nearly upon, I breathed, "By the will of the gods.., please let them be sleeping..!"
"Pardon—pardon..." I called out in a most skiddish manner to their gift in return of no offer of responce...and then even louder I clamored, "Pardon—pardon..." It came shortly after, to still no reply...
A heavy sigh escaped me as I continued my approach. The moon-lit dark-patches which had first seemed like shadows, they were now spread out before me in a most eerie way—"blood..!" I guffed, my heart skipped a beat.
"Blood's gift.." my mind whispered in its faint plead of sorrow. An assortment of sword-wounds and dagger-marks dotted their bodies—"one he and one she...a promised-pair undoubtedly...and surely a pair who were run down while they fled for their lives..," I grimmaced.
Squinting into the darkness, I noticed their lack of adornment, no valuables to be seen, little clothing upon them.
"Robbers..!" I muttered, for all had understood the true villainy of the desert. "Freshly killed..!" I presented, as I pressed four-fingers to the cold-skin of their necks. bodies stiff with no spirit...just two empty vessels...
I downed my head in defeat, shivered to my core, and then searched the surrounding sands for any tell-signs of a struggle. Afterward, I was struck by the horror of the three smaller forms who lay sprawled out nearby, each of their bodies spaced slightly apart. Three sets of wide tracks sat patterned out in angularities—paths which had ended where their small bodies lie. There were fat arrows from cross-bows which stood embedded in their back-bones.
"It cannot be—to such young ones..!" I scathed, and then moved in closer to better see the full horror. Their spirits were gone. Two were just boys and most likely brothers, and both no older than ten-seasons. The third was a girl, she likely on the cusp of her own precious promise, she was dressed in a bright-wrinkled tunic and a red stained waist-wrap, her skirt pushed up high, and revealing her hips, "inappropriate misfortune..," I cast in wait while subcontiously weathered by the length of the additional arrow-shaft which rose from her shoulders.
I willingly chose to lower her skirt with the kindest of care, and then overlaid her body with a cloak which was near. "Perhaps the gods would be merciful..?", I thought—her spirit taken swiftly, and her heart's vessel emptied completely before her grant in defilement.
"Bloody assassins..!" I cried, as I stared in the night. Strange that such a clan would be caught so unprotected, even with the safety of the "King's Highway" so close. The cruel treachery shown, it unsettled me deeply—it was like nothing I'd seen in my more sheltered life.
No satchels, no carts, no camel tracks had appeared to mark the scene. I believed the bandits where opportunists, ones who would not tarry far—only be quick to take coins and small valuables.
I returned to the fallen pair. The dark pools of their blood was still fresh to be seen, it seeped into the ground in a most gruesome fasion, their wounds wet and weeping. "This killing is recent..!," I offered out in withdraw or additional thinking. "One cannot abandon their spirits to be devoured by vultures in this cruel desert of heat. They must be laid to rest in a more proper manner so the heavens may accept them..."
Near the older male, lay a walking stick half-buried. I knelt down and lifted it. Though the night was dim, I could still make out the ends which bore crisply engraved scriblings; the middle had been worn smooth from the many years of its ware.
Once turned, I faced the bodies again. The stick's metal-capped tip was set loose and felt hollowed—curious to me, and strangely amusing. "A mount for a crystal..? or holder for a gem..?" I wondered.
Intrigued, I scanned the sands for any additional hidden treasures, but my fingers found only their gift with harsh emptiness beneath the cold caress of late-moon.
I gave up in my search for lost riches and relics and turned my attentions back to the discarded boxes which were toppled about the sand. Kneeling, I traced my fingers along one's newly loosened hold, and freed it up gently from its seat in earth's-grip. The lid of the thing stood upright and separate, and although it was still somewhat attached by the hold of one stubborn hinge, the other was broken and free of its use. It looked battered, and bent, and far beyond its original form, but the box remained steadfast.
To my eyes, it appeared as if it had been originally ornately crafted—perhaps by a jeweler or carpenter, it was a box made for some-one 's more personal keepsakes. The back of the box was cracked from the top to bottom in its bid of misuse, and overall structure came rendered with a structure so weak, and yet, inside, a soft velvet-lining had been perdominately preserved. "Perhaps for the hold of a fancy silver-flask..," I mused, my fingertips quick to brush clear the recessed angles that were outlined in a shape that was unfamiliar to me.
After I flopped over the half hanging lid, I glimpsed upon an elaborate etching—an intricate depiction of a life's-lineage that was encircled by the clarity of texts which came lost in the shadows of the night. The words were illegible, but the design had survived, it suggested the outlay of a fine family crest. "Could this be the crest of the victims who carried it..?" The thought weighed on me heavily.
If this emblem could be delivered to the Great Knight, "Sir Tancred", he surely would see fit to inform any others of the clan's bout with such tragedy. Perhaps some distant kin might then recognize the symbology, and accept the harsh new realities of their sad fate of demise...
...Select Next Scroll...
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Thank you valued Rider's Vault Members..!
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CURRENT VOLUME List:
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Scrolls of the Prophet...historical/biblical/adventure/coming of age
- Awakening
- Gathering
- Binding
- Bloodline
- Prophecy
- Phoenicia
- Future Dig
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Scrolls of the Past...historical/adventure/coming of age
- Amen Rey (Egyptian)
- House of the Fawn - (Greek)
- Spice Road - (Persian)
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Dominatrix...sci-fi/thriller/action/space adventure/coming of age/assassin
- Domina
- Bisal
- Alaran
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Terraformation..sci-fi/action/adventure/alien love story/space travel
- Terra-Form
- Terra-Rise
- Terra-Site
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Quest of the Seeker..thriller/murder mystery/afterlife/coming of age
- The Key
- The Clown
- The Seeker
**Hint: The Seeker is the Grim Reeper's brother...:)
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The Cleaner..action/thriller/coming of age/assassin
- The Child
- The Woman
- The Teacher
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Ready The Yeti..children's series/adventure/life lessons
- I Am Ready
- I Am Sassy
- I am Abominable
or
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