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Tuesday, May 31, 2011

First part of Chapter 1: Kreya of the Adenians


Kreya of the Adenians


Chapter 1
O
n a small, rocky ledge on the side of a steep mountain stood a solitary figure.  While not toweringly so, he was fairly tall with long fair hair twisted into long braids at the side and tied with rawhide strips.  His face was striking with dark, piercing eyes, prominent cheekbones and a thick moustache. A brushy beard a couple of shades darker than his hair rounded out the handsome face. The wide shoulders sloped downward a bit due to thick pectoral muscles. His powerful arms were bare except for rawhide bands tied above each bicep muscle.  The muscular chest and abdomen were covered by a deerskin vest. His buckskin pants were tucked into the top of moccasins that came almost to his knees.  From the belt around his narrow waist hung a knife with an expertly knapped flint blade attached to a handle of deer horn, and stuck into the belt was this warrior’s most prized possession.  A bronze-headed hatchet on a handle as long as the distance from his bent elbow to the tip of his fingers was as much a mark of his status in the community as it was a formidable weapon and indispensable tool. 
          This was Kreya.  He had journeyed for three days to reach this high promontory in what his people called the Southern Mountains.  From here on this little rocky perch Kreya could see the whole lush green valley that separated the Southern Mountains from the Northern Mountains.  While the Southern Mountains were substantial, they were neither as high nor as massive as the Northern Mountains.  The Northern Mountains marked the northern border of the people who lived in this land.  In the language of the people, it was called Adenia, which meant simply “our land.”  The people who lived here called themselves the Adenians, or “people of the land.” The Adenian people knew of only three trails through the Northern Mountains and it was seldom that any of the people ventured through them.  As far as the Adenians were concerned the people that lived on the other side of those mountains could stay where they were and the Adenians would stay in this, their land. 
          Kreya had come to this spot for a reason.  He had carried in his pack enough food for the journey here and back.  He planned to be here on this little shelf of rock for at least three days, but while here, he would not eat at all and would drink only sparingly from the bison bladder that held his water.  This little ledge had been used for more generations than the tribal elders could remember whenever an Adenian needed to commune with the spirits of the ancestors. 
The ledge was about three paces wide and two good steps from the mouth of the little cave at the back of the ledge would send you over the edge of the high cliff that dropped almost vertically several hundred feet. Standing at the edge of the cliff, Kreya could see almost all of the valley below that would take a man five days to walk across.  Somewhere off to his right, Kreya knew, was the summer camp of the Adenians.  At the back of the ledge was a small cave.  Actually, it barely could hold claim to such a lofty title.  It was an indentation into the rock no more than the length of a man’s body deep and just twice that wide.  While Kreya could almost stand straight up at the mouth of the cave, at the back it was not as high as a kneeling man. 
After taking a few minutes to enjoy the panoramic view from the cliff’s edge and to take a few deep breaths of the clean mountain air, Kreya bent to the work that he knew he must do to prepare for the ordeal that he was about to engage in.  Kreya untied the leather thongs that held his pack together and unrolled the bearskin that served as the bag and would also be his sleeping fur.  Kreya took from the unrolled pack the small amount of food it contained and stowed it as far back in the cave as he could then laid the bearskin near the rear of the cave.  Also contained in the bearskin were two wolf hides and a two leather bags.  In one bag were the tools that Kreya would need to start a fire along with a few things he may need here in his little camp.  The other contained ground-up fragrant herbs.  When burned in Kreya’s campfire the herbs would give off a very pleasant-smelling smoke that would help Kreya to get in touch with the ancestors.
While the journey up to this isolated place was difficult and the ordeal that he was about to face would be hard, Kreya’s heart was light.  The reason that he had made this journey and would fast here for three days was because his wife had recently given birth to a son.  Kreya was here to contact the ancestors whom the Adenians worshiped to seek their approval of his son and to be given a name for the child.  While Kreya gathered enough firewood to keep a small fire burning for three days he was happy for this was his first child and he was proud that it was a rather robust little boy.  Still, there was a small nagging worry in the back of Kreya’s mind.The ancestors did not always approve of a son or the warrior to whom it was born.  Some warriors were not able to contact the ancestors because that man was lacking in some way that the ancestors disapproved.  Sometimes the ancestors did appear to the warrior but did not give a name for the child.  This meant that the child would not survive its first winter.  So Kreya worried about his son, but felt confident that the ancestors would approve of him.
Kreya piled the firewood at the side of the ledge and then laid the two wolf hides one on top of the other near the pile and prepared a place in front of the wolf hides for a fire.  Kreya would sleep on the great bearskin in the back of the tent tonight and then when the sun rose tomorrow Kreya would sit on the wolf hides, build a small fire at the edge of the cliff and sit there for three days.  The pile of firewood was near enough at hand that he would not have to get up to add to his fire.  He would sleep a few hours each night in the cave but not until the moon which would be full tomorrow night, had reached its high point in the sky.  If the ancestors approved, he would have his vision on the third night as the moon was high, then on the fourth day Kreya would be able to eat to revive himself and then start the journey back to the summer camp.  As the sun began to set Kreya ate a bit of dried venison, drank some of his water and lay down for his last good night’s sleep for the next three days.

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