Post by Amanita Vernia on Jan 22, 2005 17:45:35 GMT -5
An encounter between darkness and light
Reading the journal of Shaba reminded me how I had been lost in the jungles as a child, surrounded by some of the most deadly creatures of Gor, and I never felt safer in my life. I was gone for three weeks and returned with hardly a scratch on my body. I did have a bite, on my wrist, given by a boy with filed teeth... a sign of friendship. I still carring that mark. Amanita was rubbing her fingers along her wrist when she came into the large square of Utukufu, meaning Glory, with Thaddaus walking beside her. Arculeius was there as well, but he was seeking a higher looking point, good with a peasant bow, he would make sure the merchant was safe, his duty. Thaddaus was less reliable in his strength, but lucky for Amanita, he liked to fight dirty. His sloppy appearance also made him commonly underestimated. He still looked youthful in the face, his brown hair flopping over his eyes, brushed away as they paused at a bench in front of the flower shop. The floral aroma of the jungle inhaled while waiting for the man, Krakatao, to arrive. Amanita discovered his name in the writings of Shaba, a strong man, one that would know the way to reach the other side of the Ushindi, perhaps still have sway with Bila Huruma, Ubar of the Ushindi. He was their best chance at surviving the jungles... and the merchant knew he would not come cheaply.
The neighboring markets were abuzz with activity although the morning congestion had wanned slightly. Women with pots balanced on their heads, neither using either hand for balance walked slowly by. Merchants vied for the attentions of each passerby, calling out the speils that accentuated their wares. Children seemed to have the herding instinct, running in a small pack in hot pursuit of a wooden ball that had been kicked astray. Several beggers moaned their ill-fated life story for a tarsk bit. It made the woman that carried nothing with an armed youth at her elbow stand out quite nicely. Krakatoa was a patient man. Waiting for ans and ans until he found the perfect ihn to strike. He was insidious as he was greedy. But twice as clever at hiding it. He had been surprised at the unexpected missive that arrived at his doorstep, requesting this meeting. A more arrogant man would have denied the woman, but he marked her name. Vital's offspring. The last man to talk to Sarabi before the tortured man died on the table, taking his secret with him. A former askari, he was black-skinned, his forehead broad, his nose flat with nostrils that looked like they were constantly flared. Tattoed spirals inked his cheeks. The embellishments of the Ushindi court. He lived there no longer, residing here in Schendi the way an ost coils atop of the warmest rock. His clothing showed the change over. No more were the beaten gold arm bands. No longer were the feathered headress of scarlet plumed birds. The pelt of the jungle jaguar about his hips. Now a simple burlap-colored robe covered him. His only decoration the brass plug at his lip. He moved to the woman. He wasn't alone. A wheedly looking scribe was at his elbow, laden down with the metal cylanders that held scrolls. "Lady Vernia?" His words were rich with inland dialect. A barrel-chested barritone.
My eye was on an exotic orchid before it turned to that voice and found the dark skin, etched with even darker ink upon his cheeks. From the journal I expected ... well, I'm not sure what I expected, perhaps a man dripping with blood wouldn't fit into the setting of the square, but even in the simple burlap, he demanded my attention with his presence. "Yes," she said, smiling under the thin guard of veil that kept her lips hidden, "I suppose I am easy prey in this environment." It had not gotten past her the differernce in dress from other cities to Schendi. The culture of the tribes seemed to be fluid even in the vast square, the scents, even the flowers, everything influenced by the nearby jungles that so few would tread into. Her request might of come as a surprise to him, but through her own strategy, she had explained her way of uncovering him not with the journal, but a beggar's word. It is surprising what can be purchased for a few bits, even a man's name. "I'm glad you decided to meet with me, otherwise I'd just be purchasing flowers today." She noticed the scribe in his company, but her focus was on the larger man who shadowed over all three of them. Thaddaus showed only a mild interest, but remained at Amanita's side measuring up a few purses he might get his hands on or a slave basking in the golden light of predusk.
She was veiled and robed and his eyes couldn't pry beneath the tapestry barricades and see into the quick of her. To see if she was anything like Vital. He would wait, and she would eventually reveal herself. For now, she just filled the silence with words and his slow smile broadened. "I am Krakatoa. Welcome back to your home." He let her know that he knew at least the bare basics; she was indigneous to this City. Heavy robes of hair fell foreward with his deliberate nod. "You spoke of information concerning my time in the jungles under the helm of Shaba." He turned and began a slow walk, his broad hand sliding through the air like an oar through lagoon water. Indicating that she should join him. The scribe would wait a few beats and follow, giving them space in which to speak. He left the yawning pit wide open for her to jump into, skirt or turn on her heel and run. A merchant side-stepped before them, arms heavily coated with jewelry and baubles until a look cut from those dark eyes sent him back to his make-shift stall.
Home... that word gained evne fuller attention from me, for once in my life I was grateful for the veil that hid both my surprise and those teeth that would of told him I was the spitting image of Vital... in every devious way. Her jaw tensed, but lifted with plesant tones being played over her lips, trying to hide the truth. "Thank you, Krakatoa, it is good to be home again and yes... I am interested in the jungles and your expereinces exploring them." She wouldn't lay every card on the table, but there was no reason to play coy, "I've been told you are worth having, as well as your men, if I plan on surviving a trip into the jungles." She took the hint to follow beside him, as the scribe held back, so did the thief, making idle conversation perhaps about the humid weather. She knew Arculeius was watching overhead with his arrow aimed if needed. "Shall I take your meeting me as a sign you are for hire... or did you just come for flowers as well?"
He had her walk the perimeter of the cobbled square to put her more at ease. Not facing off with eachother, they walked in accord. And it let him have a good view of the entire complex to see if she brought more along than her ruffian lap-sleen. He could hear behind him, the guarded convesation between the scribe and her man even though they followed a few paces behind, as well as the woman's affirmation. A nod. "You said as much as that in your missive, Lady Vernia. But indulge my curiosity...why would a woman wish to explore the jungles?" Long dark fingers of each hand threaded together in a deliberate motion as if he had given this question much thought before he voiced it. "Those of Schendi do not often leave the protection..." The white cresent of teeth flashed with that word. Everyone knew that Schendi's barricade was laughable. "of the City walls." He hadn't quite believed her, when she had written that a beggar had coughed up his name when she had questioned him about who might know of an expedition. A lady? Speaking to beggars? No, he didn't beleieve her. His motions were smooth, predatory fast as he took her elbow and moved her out of the path of tharlarion drawn cart, laden with clay pots jostling in the back. "For hire for the information swimming in my head? Or as an escort, Lady?"
Fool them into believing you need them, that you are frail and need protection, a damsel in distress... always let them underestimate your strength. That is how I have survived, not because I am more powerful than a man, not even an equal to him, am I, but I have never let him see where my strength lays dormant. Better to let him believe I am weaker in all aspects, to a man, better to let him defeat himself than I. She felt the shift of his body as they walked, the sound coming from behind and then his arm drawing her in, away from the danger. He had made a point about leaving Schendi, many would frown on the idea of a woman going into the jungles, even one with experiences like the Charmer held. She let small noise leave her lips when he pulled her, but a laugh followed it as she brushed away the threat the tharlarion had caused believing it made her point better than his. "There are dangers to be found, even inside protective walls of a city, Krakatoa, but you are right... the jungle is not the best place for a woman." She took only a few steps further until she turned to face him, slippered feet paused on their tips as her brow pinched in thought. A man like Krakatoa would not accept an invitation with a stranger without looking into her background. Amanita had made not attempt to hide where she was staying from any of the city and any who know the house of Silenti would trace it back to Vital, her father. Records would show he had not one, but two daughters. "I inherited my curiosity from my father.... and I would be willing to pay for either, information or an escort. Perhaps both."
