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KingBiscuit
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« on: January 02, 2011, 07:07:09 AM » |
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Squatting in a corner of the Royal Court Throne Room is SofaKing, with all the children of the village around him. It is time for their lesson; for the people of Raktam, education is left to the wise elders as the younger parents tend to the labors of the fields and jungles. SofaKing beckons the children to come closer. Even though his voice is strong, he wants to know he has their attention. In front of him is a brazier full of smoldering charcoals, and a rolled up animal skin.
"Come, children, come. Listen with your ears and minds, as I tell you a story from the history of our people. We Raktami have always been the most ambitious of our native brothers and sisters on our fair island. The Dalpoki have always had the greatest passions; as brave in battle as they are devout in their worships. Our relations to the east, in Wiksik, are seekers of knowledge and blood, continually uncovering the arcane mysteries of our people even as they cloak themselves in darkness. But we Raktami.... our reach has always exceeded our grasp. Dreamers are we, yet with the strength to do what we must to attain such dreams.
Ambition can be a fine thing, children, but too much realized ambition can be mistaken for greed and engender great jealousy - and there is no greater jealousy than that between siblings. Many turnings of the seasons, before our present time and the coming of the outsiders, there was a great Raktami king named Kahekili. He sought to unite all of Shartak under the leadership of Raktam. Some say he sought only to end the squabblings between the brothers and sisters in Dalpok, Wiksik and Raktam, and usher in a new era of prosperity and peace. Others see his motivations as something more sinister.
After Kahekilli conquered or made vassals out of most of the lesser tribes, the Queen of Dalpok and King of Wiksik realized the extent of their brother’s ambitions. They made a pact to defeat Kahekilli in battle and to humble the people of Raktam so that they would not be a proud people.
Kahekilli heard word that great numbers of Dalpoki and Wiksik were warriors streaming towards Raktam. A man as devout as he was skilled in the art of war, he sealed his throne room before the coming battle so that he might meditate on strategy and pray to the skygods for victory."
SofaKing unrolls the animal hide at his feet, revealing a packet of the sacred herbs of healing, as well as a strange ceramic tube topped with a carving of a roaring bear. He breaks apart the packet of herbs in his hand, and tosses the major part onto the brazier. Fragrant smoke soon billows around the listening group.
"Who first discovered the miraculous abilities of the healing herbs is lost to the passing of time. I have seen the proper application heal grievous wounds. I have seen men and women cured from the most lethal of diseases and most pernicious of poisons. It heals the sick, soothes the mind and is our people’s greatest resource. Inhaling the sacred smoke creates a bridge to the skygods and allows one to sense their will. Kahekilli burnt much of the herb during his meditations.
After three nights, Kahekilli came out of his throne room. His lieutenants were anxious for his instructions; the bulk of the enemy warforce was no more than a day’s march away. Kahekilli gave them all separate orders that filled them with wonder. They could not apprehend what military miracle their king and warlord had prepared for the coming battle. The people of Raktam hurried their preparations before the breaking of dawn.
When the sun finally rose over the horizon, the stillness of the jungle was shattered by the slapping of thousands of sandaled feet upon the ground of Shartak. The mighty warhost had arrived. There was no shouting of warcries or hollering of oaths. The warriors of Dalpok and Wiksik had come with grim slaughter on their mind.
Before the warriors stood an assemblage of curious wooden works mostly obscured by animal hides. They paused momentarily, confused by the structures behind which the population of Raktam was placed. Was this some implement of war dreamed up by the Raktami king?
Even as the warriors tightened their grips on their swords and machetes and made ready to charge once again, Kahekilli strode out to meet them. His face was smeared and blackened with ash. His robes (made from the most resplendent parrot feathers) had been replaced with a simple loincloth, and in place of a crown, he wore a circlet of inward facing shargle’s teeth.
He raised a hand into the sky, as if to halt the oncoming onslaught. The warriors stiffened at the signal, fearing it meant the unleashing of Kahekilli’s new weapon. The people of Raktam reacted, and as one, removed the hide coverings from the wooden structures.
The structures revealed themselves as simple tables, upon which were piled high roasted suckling pigs, barbecued deer haunches, fried portions of alligator, and many more delicacies. Gourds filled with the finest of Raktam’s vintages stood on each table. Closest to Kahekilli was a table overflowing with packets of the healing herbs sacred to all the people of Shartak. The king withdrew from the table an implement he had ordered his craftsmen to fashion the night before.
“Warriors of Dalpok! Warriors of Wiksik! You have come here hungry for war and thirsty for blood! But I am sorry to disappoint. We only have the finest feast in generations to sate your cravings, seasoned with the regrets of a humbled king.”
Kahekilli stuffed his curious implement full of healing herb, then sat crosslegged in the mud before the table. Lighting one end of the cylinder on fire, he placed the other to his lips and inhaled deeply. Smoke trailed from his mouth as he lowered the smoking pipe.
“I would ask my brother and sister to join me.” Cautiously, fearing a trap, the Queen of Dalpok and the King of Wiksik approached the King of Raktam. He stood and showed them the pipe. It was a very fine thing, carved with scenes of peace and prosperity, showing the people of Shartak engaged in harvests, feasts and friendly contests. Atop the pipe was a carving of Kahekilli’s spiritual totem, the tiger, placed so that it would face him while he smoked. He drew from the pipe again, then passed it to his siblings.
“I have committed a grave dishonor, and I now beg forgiveness. I have been blind to the will of the skygods. It is not right for one brother to put himself before his relations. My urge to lead has overridden my knowledge of correct actions. In my meditations, Father Tiger came to me and stared deep into my eyes. He bade me fashion this pipe, so that I may connect myself to the will of others.” The King and Queen smoked the pipe as Kahekilli spoke, and sensed the truth of his words.
“Now I submit myself to your will. My errors are my own, not that of my people. I have wronged you with my ambitious overreaching. Please accept these gifts offered by the people of Raktam and join us in celebration instead of battle. This will be a day of feasting instead of mourning. I renounce my claim to rule Shartak and instead affirm the spirit of brotherhood between our peoples.”
The Queen of Dalpok and King of Wiksik agreed that feasting was better than fighting. Instead of slaying the people of Raktam, the warriors of Dalpok and Wiksik toasted Raktami hospitality and ate and drank the finest fruits of the jungle. Peace was known to all. In the night, Kahekilli slipped away and made pilgrimage to the Sacred Mountain, living out the rest of his days as a hermit. His creation of the peace pipe spread to all tribes, but even now the Raktami are known to create the finest of pipes in his memory."
SofaKing loads his pipe and draws on it heavily.
"When you take the trials of adulthood, you will go into the jungle alone and find your totem spirit. When you return, you will carve a pipe in the shape of your totem with its eyes facing you, so that as you take the smoke trance, it will stare into your soul. The sacred herb smells sweet on the brazier, but true understandings come from pipe.
The peace pipe is a symbol of our people, reminding us that with the fruits of ambition come also danger. Our aspirations must be tempered with will of the skygods... as well as those of our brothers and sisters.
Now go and play, young ones."
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