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[hider=Summary]Palo is captured and Orif saves him
TOBIA arrives at the main camp and Eskandar goes out to meet her
It appears he was expecting her and she helps him lay down the Law
Some people are not too happy and conspire to kill Eskandar
They are caught and punished
Bato disobeys and is punished
A grandson of the ageing Patriarch is impudent and is punished
Bet kills the Patriach[/hider][/centre]

[centre]Thanatos V[/centre]

[i]Moon: 343[/i]
Palo hefted his spear and, with tremendous force, struck at the savage denier-of-the-faith. Beside him, one of his faithful Palowids fell with a spear stuck in his throat. The powerful Chief-Warrior was not fazed by the sight, but it increased him in fury at the deniers.
'We have not the power to vanquish them this day, Chief-Warrior, let us away!' Palo growled in discontent at the cowardice of those who called themselves his warriors.
'We stand, fools! Victory over these deniers must be ours, it is that or death!'
'Great Palo, see reason and let us away! Our fall here would bring all the faithful dismay, 'tis better we run from the field today and return with greater arms and strength another day,' the savage deniers were now slowly encircling their position, and if Palo did not make a swift decision he would soon find both fighting and retreating impossible.

'Go, and my curses with you. Never shall Palo turn his back to the Patriarch's foe!' and saying that the Chief-Warrior raised his spear again and charged at the deniers. Behind him the few Palowids who had been ambushed alongside him turned and made a swift getaway, leaving the crazed Chief-Warrior and their one dead comrade to the mercy of the Moon-Mother.

And they did go. But when they arrived and informed the Patriarch of what had occurred, his wrath was mighty indeed. And greater still was the fury of Orif. For he and Palo were of two sisters born, he of Beru and Orif of Cala. And not only that, but they came not too long after the other into the world, and coming together then, they had remained together ever. When they became men, they had done so together, and their father had given them his blessings together.

But they were not merely brothers and the closest of friends. The Patriarch had called them both one day and sat them before the fire, and he had given each of them a sharped stone and commanded that each of them cut the other's palm. They had pleaded with their father, asking he tell them why.
'Why! You ask me why?' he had snapped at them, 'do not ask me why! Do as I command, and I shall tell you why when the time for you to know has come. Now do it.'
And they had. And the Patriarch had taken of their blood and mixed it, and he had commanded they rub it on to one another face and arms and hands and to remain like that from sunset till sunrise.

When they returned to him at sunrise, the blood having dried and begun to flake, he washed them both and had them dress in new furs, and he brought them before all the others and declared them ever bonded to each other, even death would not separate them, for their souls had become entwined and their minds had become as one, and their hearts beat with a single heartbeat.
'You two are as the wings of the bird. Together you fly, and should one of you fail so does the other. So stick close by one another and let nothing ever stand between you or separate you,' the Patriarch had told them afterwards. And even closer did they become as a result. 

So none were surprised when Orif - with his usual calm - gathered all his warriors and set out to save his brother or take vengeance on his killers. For a week Orif camped in a forested valley not far from the enemy camp, having his warriors scout the area and see if there were any observable patterns in the way the enemies went about their days. It appeared that their main party of warriors set out regularly to hunt, leaving but a small number of warriors behind at the camp.

And so Orif and his warriors descended upon the enemy camp with a great vengeance. Their warriors were slaughtered without mercy, and had it not been for Orif's deep comprehension of his father's will, he would have slaughtered and burned everyone in the settlement from the youngest child to the elderly who hung at the gates of death. After a quick search of the camp, a bruised and hurt Palo was found tied to a pole in the camp's centre.

Orif came to him and sat by him for long. Every now and again one of them would touch the other's face, or stroke the other's hair, and even though Palo was visible angry, never did he turn it against Orif. At last Orif stood and helped the injured Palo to his feet.
'I shall send you back to the Patriarch, and you shall rest until you are healed of your wounds. I and the rest of my warriors shall hunt down the deniers and bring them to the Patriarch's justice,' Palo shook his head firmly in the negative.
'I shan't be going anywhere. Bring me my war dress, Orif, bring me my spear. I shall march out with you, I shall plant the seeds of fear in their hearts, and the flowers of death shall bloom.'

Orif smiled and nodded. There would be no argument here, no pleadings and rejections and attempts to persuade. Orif knew Palo as he knew himself, and no more words needed saying than had been said. And so the Orifids prowled forth, Orif and Palo at the helm. When they came upon their enemy it was some distance from the camp in a great open grassland dotted with some trees, and giving way to hills in the distance. The Orifids gave off their furious roars and beat their fur-clad feet against the ground.

Orif raised his spear to the heavens and Palo raised his voice into a great shout.
'What are we?'
'Death!'
'Who are we?'
'Death!'
'Let those decrepit whelps hear your names! Let it be the last they hear!'
'Death! Death! Death!' 

'Orifids!' came Orif's own voice, 'let them have it!'
With that, the war party sprang forward towards the hated foe. Never before had two parties of warriors clashed like this in the open. Ambushes and traps were their ways, for they hunted each other as they hunted the beast of the wild. But this was no time for ambushes and traps. This was a time for vengeance. And vengeance they had.

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[i]Moon: 346[/i]
'Save us! Woe! Woe! Save us, oh blessed one!' the hysterical screaming was accompanied by frantic footsteps, and Eskandar had not emerged from his tent before a crowd of men and woman had gathered before it. The frinji women among them were on their knees, beating their heads and knees and the ground, and layering their hair with earth and dust.
'Oh save us!' they were wailing. Eskandar brought himself up to his full height and commanded them to be quiet.
'What lunacy has entered you? What spirit has driven your wits away? Stop screaming, you faithless ones, and let me hear from one who yet has some reason,' at this, an Orifid whom Eskandar quickly recognised as his young son Verik stepped forth and spoke.

'Great Patriarch, we are a luckless people. The curse of the Moon-Mother, despite your great blessings, has fallen upon us and our certain doom crawls towards us upon six legs this very moment,' Eskandar frowned and anger shone clear in his eyes.
'Mend your words, knave! Your doom crawls not towards you upon six legs, it soon flies towards you at the tip of a spear!' Verik looked shaken by Eskandar's anger and looked at those behind him, who were standing in distressed silence.
'Step back Verik, I shall speak to the Patriarch, for your foolish words endanger your life and the make questionable the sanity of us who have seen what we have seen,' another of Eskandar's sons, Po, stepped forward.

'Father, some warriors - Verik and I among them - were travelling far off in the Big-Trees, near the Moon-Mother's River, when one of us happened upon a creature most terrifying and savage. It looked much like an ant, but it was like no ant we had ever before seen. By the Moon-Mother!- this thing was larger than even you, father! And the colour of its shell was in constant flux, as though a thousand furious spirits warred within. There was no doubt in my mind that the creature perceived us all, but we backed away and made our escape, and came right back here that we may let all know of this approaching catastrophe. What shall we do, father?' silence reigned at this revelation, and Eskandar stood for a while staring into the heavens. His silence did not help the ever-growing crowd to calm down, and their agitation and terror grew by the minute.

'You faithless ones!' he roared at last, 'what has entered your breasts that you think this a thing beyond the power of the Moon-Mother? Am I not her blessed and chosen Patriarch? Have I not told you and told you again, that so long as I am with you her blessing will rain upon you and never cease? Calm yourselves, strengthen your weak and severely lacking faith. Bring me my Warrior-Chiefs,' with that, he sat down by his fire and waited on Bato, Palo and Orif. He scratched at his beard slowly as he thought on this turn of events. Certainly the Moon-Mother had not brought the beast their way but to test the faith of her subjects, and the unwavering belief of his own heart. Did these foolish people think that, simply due to him being amongst them, that they would not be tested? That fear would not be sent forth in droves upon them, and that the furies of the Moon-Mother would not be seen agalloping on the wide horizons towards them? They were indeed of little wit and of little faith if they thought thus!

'Father?' he looked up to find Elia standing before him. He smiled and signalled for his beloved eldest daughter to come sit beside him. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed the side of her head, and she rested her head on his shoulder before speaking.
'What is this talk that is going round the camp? They speak of the Earthen Beast, the Mud-Ant. Is it true that it comes our way?' Eskandar grunted in annoyance.
'And what if it is coming?' his voice barely concealed the simmering fury within him, 'they are all of weak faith! They have no trust in me and they have no trust in the Moon-Mother! Weaklings and cowards the lot of them!'
'Not all of us, my Patriarch,' she raised her head and looked at him, 'I care not for this Mud-Ant. The Moon-Mother will deliver us from its evil and bring us to safety even if it so happened that we lay defenceless between the beast's mandibles. We have you father, and with you the Moon-Mother. That is enough for me,' Eskandar could not help but chuckle and rub her head affectionately.
'Not you Elia, never you. I have no doubts about the strength of your faith. Of my children, there are rocks and stones and pebbles. You Elia are a mountain. Were all others to slip and stray, you would still defiant stand,' he leant in and kissed her forehead, and he looked into her eyes with a tinge of sadness, 'woe to you, little Elia, you are struck down by a people in deepest darkness stray.'

For what felt like the longest time father and daughter sat staring at each other, she with shock and he with a growing melancholy.
'Father...what do you mea-'
But footsteps caused her to stop abruptly and they both looked up to find that the Warrior-Chiefs had arrived. He patted Elia on the shoulder and she swiftly stood. With one last questioning glance to her Patriarch, she moved away. With Elia gone, Eskandar looked upon his three War-Chiefs and gave his orders.

'The Earthen Beast this way comes. Gather your warriors and track it down. Do not engage it, but keep it under constant watch. If a confrontation occurs, withdraw immediately and notify me. If it continues to head towards our camp, send for me,' he looked at Bato, 'Bato, you shall be the lead Warrior-Chief on this occasion. Your word is final, your command my own,' Bato and Orif bowed in respect, and Palo nodded in acceptance. 

'Do not tarry. And do not be sad and do not fear, and you are the victors by the Moon-Mother's will. Her blessings follow you so long as you follow my commands,' and with a wave of his hand, Eskandar dismissed his sons. He released a deep breath, placing his elbow on his thigh and his cheek upon a closed fist.

When they returned the following day, missing some two men, they found him in a similar position. The beast, they informed him, had surprised them, and it had taken of their brothers two and disappeared. Eskandar was silent, even as he rose and left the camp, none dared approach him and none dared question him on what to do, or wail and scream in fear.

He found the ant the Big-Trees, and with utter faith in the Moon-Mother walked towards it.
'And so you have come,' it said. But it did not speak. At least, not in a sound he ever thought he could decipher. But his response was cool.
'That I have.'
'And do you know why you have come?'
'Because it is the will of the Moon-Mother.'
'And how do you know this?'
'Those were the words of the wooden man in my dream. I have not known him to lie.'
'No, that he does not,' it said, 'and you know what he commands?'
Eskandar nodded.
'And do you obey?'
'I obey none but the Moon-Mother.'
'And you doubt my own obedience to her?'
Eskandar paused for a few moments before slowly shaking his head.
'He said you will give me the strength to establish the Law.'
'And that I will. Let us to your village, upon my spine shall I carry you.'

And so Eskandar returned upon the beast, and the shock and fear of the people were great. But he stood upon the Earthen Beast and summoned the people to him. And they came.

'We have shown you the greatest of our miracles, that you may know that the Moon-Mother is true, and that I am true, and that her blessings and mercy are true. And we have brought to you that which you mistook for foe, and you have, with the mercy of the Moon-Mother, perceived some of the truth on this matter which has haunted you long. And look there, they whom you thought victims of the Earth Beast, see how they return to you that joy may be in your hearts, and that you may be content, and that you may show gratitude. So listen here and hear me well, for I have come to you and have been as the Living Law among you. And it is decreed that all things must end, and the Living may die, but the Law is eternal. Hear this, for it is the Law and you must establish it where it is not, and you must adore it and you must respect it ever. You shall worship none other than she who is Truth. The Moon-Mother is your god, your blesser, and the only one worthy of worship, so obey her ever,' the Earth Beast almost knocked him off at this stage as it suddenly moved. Yes, that was not what he was meant to say, but he knew the truth and would not hide it, and the Earth Beast would not harm him or disobey.

'So worship not any but her. And to they who birthed you be good and do good, and to those who are of your blood, and to those who have lost they who birthed them, and to those who find themselves impoverished and weak. Be good and do good to them all that you may prosper, and woe to they who do not. And let nothing but good leave your mouths, and speak well of others that they may speak well of you. And let not your tongues be turned in harshness upon each other lest your hands quickly follow. And [i]do not[/i] shed each other's blood, and [i]do not[/i] dislodge one another from your homes and cause each other to stray in the land; and they are indeed big if you but knew. And say: "we have heard and we are, by the will of the Moon-Mother, of those who obey".' 

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[i]Moon: 351[/i]
But within their hearts were planted the seeds of disobedience, and they were of those who disobeyed. They met inside the tents where they thought the Patriarch could not hear, and they whispered and plotted.
'How! How can he bring that beast here? That beast which destroyed all we had?'
'Is it my own father who returned with that thing? By the Moon-Mother, 'tis but a trick of the beast. We must do something ab-'
'Kill it! Kill him!'
'What, but the Patria-'
'You heard him, that isn't the Patriarch, it's a trick from the beast!'
'But what if-'
'Have you not seen how he has been these past moons? He is not the Patriarch!'
'Yes, it is true. He came to my tent not more than five nights ago, and he was gibbering nonsense to me about "the things hiding in the night", why he has gone insane! Or he has befriended creatures of the darkness and fallen prey to the madness they instil within their victims!'
'But the Moon-Mother would protect him, would she not?'
'He has abandoned the Moon-Mother by his pact with the beast, and the Moon-Mother is not one to bless those who ally with her enemies.'
'The Law though, we must not spill each other's blo-'
'Poppycock!'
'Claptrap!'
'Balderdash!'
'Moonshine, by golly!'
'Utter baloney!'
'Hogwash! Hogwash you hear? All this dribble about "you who birthed them" and "they who have not they who birthed them", by the Moon-Mother, what twaddle!'
'Yea yea yeeaah,' at this point everyone gathered in the intent looked quizzically at the culprit of the strange sound. In another world, it seemed that this particular tribal had been a member of the British parliament, but none of them knew that and so did not spare him from their looks of disgust and shock.

And for long did they plot and scheme, but they realised not that she whom the Moon-Mother blessed was a greater plotter and a greater schemer than they could ever hope to be. For he had for long known that they were of little faith. Among those whom they had thought to trust were those with loyalty to the Patriarch in their hearts. And they had come to him and declared openly their innocence and who the guilty, faithless ones are.
'I know,' he had assured them, 'and in due time will I seize them.'
And seize them he did, and they came before him in rope.

'Untie them,' the Patriarch commanded coldly. He approached one of the conspirators, none other than his son Hezric.
'Why?' he asked. Hezric looked away, unable to hold his father's gaze.
'Did I not care for you when you were nothing but a babe, and carried you from all danger? Have I not brought you close to my bosom? Have I not honoured you as I have honoured all my sons? Have I not elevated you, and are you not of my warriors? Have I not showered you with my blessings, and given you life-mates and tents that you may live in prosperity? So why?' there was no response, and the Patriarch's calm shattered.
'Answer me!' he roared.
'Because- because I want more than prosperity. You did not ask for prosperity when you set out and forged a tribe for yourself! My brothers did not ask for prosperity when the were elevated above all other warriors! So why should I be content with this idle prosperity? And I have come to you again and again asking that you give me some of the reins of power, but you have never listened.'

The Patriarch clenched his teeth and turned away from his misguided son.
'You unhappy wretch. You have torn apart my heart. Why by the Moon-Mother! you have shattered my heart so that it can never again come together. Did you not know that I was yet saving you for the days yet to come? But you have chosen nothing other than to be hasty, and have made your death law upon me.'

Hezric looked up in shock.
'You...you kill me?' at this, the Patriarch turned and nodded coldly.
'This is the basis. Or what were [i]you[/i] planning, you treacherous boy?'
'You...you kill your son? You kill Hezric?'
'Treachery has no faith, or gender, or ties of blood. And it has but one punishment.'
'I am your son, oh Father, oh Patriarch. Do you not remember the Law you laid down and the blood whose spilling you forbade?'
'Why did [i]you[/i] not remember that? You did not betray me except that you betrayed the Law! Why I am innocent of all you have done, my blood run not through your veins! I declare myself innocent of you and with my own hands would kill you were it not too great on shattered heart!'

Hezric looked around him in horror before getting on his knees and clutching his father legs.
'Mercy, Father! Mercy! I beseech you, by the Moon-Mother, kill me not! The dark spirits led me astray!' he reached for this father hand and tried to kiss it, but Eskandar raised his hand and looked away from the criminal.
'The dark ones lead not astray other than those who stray.'
'Mercy, Father. The Moon-Mother accepts repentance.'
'In that case, repent to the Moon-Mother before your death. And I shall pray to her that she forgive you. Perhaps she will, when all are brought forth before her, bring you forth before her differently from the way you leave us,' he turned to some of his warriors, 'take him.'

They seized him and led him away.
'Bato! Orif!' he shouted, 'intercede on my behalf! Oh, brothers!' but the Chief-Warriors were sombre and silent.
'Mother! Zekra! Oh merciful, oh you of the kind heart! Mother!' but his mother wept and put her head in her palms, for she could not bear to see what occurred before her.
'Mother! I don't want to die! Mother!' and his shouts continued even as he was led away from the camp to be punished. All stood in shock and fear, and none dared look upon the Patriarch as he crumbled to the ground and covered his eyes with a hand.

'And you,' he at least gestured to the other conspirators, 'you also wished after what is not yours?'
'Patriarch,' Tymis spoke, one of the life-mates of Elia, 'we but wished for vengeance against the beast which destroyed our tribe. You have brought it to us and allied with it, we cannot accept tha-'
'Be quiet you treacherous cretin! You question me? You question the Moon-Mother's wisdom?!'
'What wisdom! You are nothing but a madman! The dark spirits have consumed your mind! You will die! You will die!'
'Take this apostate, this viper away! Away I say! Take them all and give them their comeuppance!' the roared in fear and fury, their tongues screamed obscenities and heretic words.
'TEAR THEIR TONGUES OUT!' the Patriarch roared in rage, 'GOUGE THEIR UNGRATEFUL EYES!' and he turned away in trembling frenzy and disappeared into his tent.

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[i]Moon: 370[/i] [centre][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4WxpuiO4CA[/youtube][/centre]
‘Where is Bato?’ he asked. Silence was the only reply.
‘Where is Bato?’ he growled, and Meli responded.

‘He…he went out to the prairie to…to hunt. He said he will hunt the great-furred-two-horn,’ she whimpered as Eskandar swept past her, his eyes flashing with a cold fury. 
Leaving the tent, he gripped his long-dormant spear and made for the prairie-lands of the great-furred-big-horns. It was not truly fury that filled him, however, though his eyes flared with inconceivable anger. It was a great sadness, that filled him, it was a mighty misery. For it had come to this. He had given his command, and his command had been flouted. It had reached the raising of the spear, and once Eskandar raised his spear, he did not put it down until it was red with the blood of those whose blood had become permissible – indeed, obligatory - to him.
‘O! Son of mine,’ he lamented as he strode forth to reprimand his firstborn, ‘O! Foolish, foolish son of mine.’

When he crested the hill and looked upon the valley of the great-furred-big-horns, his perceptive eyes did not immediately spot his wayward son. The winds blew through his long, ruffled bark-brown hair, and his reddish beard was gently stroked by the wind, and he turned his head in the direction it blew. And he spotted the one whose blood had become obligatory. Tightening his grip on his spear, the Patriarch stalked forward. There was no hint of emotion on his face, and his eyes were the widened eyes of a hunter on the prowl. A slow, deep growling sound emerged from his chest, and his son perked up upon hearing it, and fear filled his eyes when he saw his father growling and stalking towards him, his intent all too clear.

‘Father, please-’ but he was cut off by Eskandar releasing a mighty roar and launching himself at the transgressor. The one who had defied him and his words. Had he not declared these two moons holy? Had he not commanded they not hunt in them? The boy managed to scamper out of the way, but Eskandar turned upon him almost immediately, spear raised. Yet Bato did not raise his spear, his eyes were pleading and his shoulders slumped.

‘Father, please don’t, I onl-’ but the time for words was long passed. The spear had been raised, and Eskandar was not one to lower it before it had been wetted. He swept forward, his hand snaking out and gripping Bato’s throat before pushing him down onto the ground and standing over him.

‘Your blood for your crime, no son of mine are you,’ the Patriarch’s voice came colder than steel, and its iciness broke Bato’s soul before the spear-point pierced his heart and stole his budding life. He drove it deep, looking into the dying boy’s eyes as his life slowly faded and was gone.

Without pause, he wrenched the spear out and placed his hand upon the weeping wound, lacing his hands in the blood before spreading it over his hands up to his elbows. He repeated the action and rubbed the blood onto his face and chest. With his small ritual done, he picked the boy up and began the trek back to the camp.

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[i]Moon: 370[/i]
Standing before them, and with the dead body of Bato before them all, the bloodied Patriarch gripped his spear and, with a mighty thrust, buried it in the ground before him.

‘You my sons, and you my daughters, and you my life-mates and bearers of these here children. Listen and understand and heed these words, for I shan’t repeat them, and weighty shall be the price for those who do not. I have travelled long with you, I have protected you from the wild beasts and from men, and the cruelties which abound on the flowing waters and the solid earth, and the cruelties which fly above us. I have fed you always and have paid with blood and sweat that you may all grow before my eyes; strong, safe, united. I am your father and the Patriarch, my Word is a Law unto you, and I am the Law personified. Those who hear must obey, and those who obey are good sons and good daughters and good life-mates and good frinjis. If ye be good, then come forth and kiss the hand of your Patriarch, and let obedience to me be as inherent in you as is my flesh and blood, as are the hardships I have endured for you to grow and as is the tiredness of my never-sleeping eyes that guarded and do still guard you. And if ye be bad then come forth and take up your spear, for it is best that you die rather than continue living; it is I who brought you into this world, and it is I who will remove you from it for your rebellion and wayward ways. Come forth you good children and you good life-mates and you good frinjis, and pledge your eternal obedience to your Patriarch.’

With those words, Eskandar waited upon his flock to do as he commanded. The first to step forth was Zekra, the first of his wives. Ever loyal was she, even though it was her firstborn son…his firstborn son also, who lay dead on the ground. With silent tears trailing down her face, she came forth and took his right hand and planted a kiss upon it.

[centre][img]http://i.imgur.com/zpizr3j.png[/img]
Ever-Loyal Zekra, Pillar of Eskandar, First of the Patriarch’s Life-Mates[/centre]

‘Oh killer of my flesh and blood: you are my flesh and blood and beating heart, your words have always been Law to me, and you have always been my benign and merciful master and protector. If ever I should disobey you, then I would strike my wayward heart before your blessed hand struck me; before my tainted blood could dirty you,’ she raised her head and the still-wet blood of Bato, which had been on Eskandar’s hand, now stained her lips.

‘Your pledge has been taken and you shall be held to it,’ was his cold response. Much as her words moved him, there was a time for being moved and a time for standing stronger than a rock. In that moment, he was not Eskandar her life-mate, he was Eskandar her Patriarch, her Master, her Law. And though he had killed of her children many, ever-loyal was she.

Next came Seri, a steely determination in her eyes. She took his hand in her own and planted a firm kiss on its back, and then placed her cheek upon it.

[centre][img]http://i.imgur.com/peGR9TG.png[/img]
Seri the Tigress, Claw of Eskandar, Second of the Patriarch’s Life-Mates[/centre]

‘My Life-Mate, my Patriarch, Blessed of the Moon-Mother, Bringer of Wisdom, Speaker of the Law. You have but to command me and I shall obey,’ and she kept her cheek upon his palm until he gently raised her head up and looked into her eyes. Though there was determination and vigour within them, he could also see that Bato’s fate had filled her with a deep sadness – for he had been a son to her also.
‘Your pledge has been taken and you shall be held to it,’ came his icy reply.

Tse, his third life-mate, stepped forward. There was clear fear in her eyes, for she hated the sight of blood and did not like killing. She had told him again and again, when he lay with her, that she loved the great capacity for mercy and forgiveness in him, and feared, greatly disliked his anger and vengeance. He had strived, for her sake, to keep said anger and vengeance out of her sight, but he could not always do so – much though he regretted causing her distress.

[centre][img]http://i.imgur.com/cUKoKlh.png[/img]
Tse the Tender, Mercy of Eskandar, Third of the Patriarch’s Life-Mates[/centre]

‘You have ever cherished us all, and ever loved us,’ she said with tears running down her face, slowly getting on her knees before him and holding his hand to her chest, ‘and it is my hope, oh ever-merciful, oft-forgiving Master and Patriarch, that your mercy will always rule over your punishment,’ he raised her to her feet and hugged her to him, wiping her tears away with her furs – so as to keep his bloodied hands from her face.

‘Your pledge has been taken, tender Tse, and your words have been planted in my heart,’ he planted a soft kiss on her cheek and released her. Seri stepped forward and helped the devastated woman away to her tent, where all could grieve for the loss and rejoice for the beauty of justice-done.

The sisters Beru and Cala were next, and just as he had united with them together, they now came to him together. Beru, the elder of the two and wisest of his life-mates spoke first.

[centre][img]http://i.imgur.com/DfsRYqH.png[/img]
Beru the Sage, Wisdom of Eskandar, Fourth of the Patriarch’s Life-Mates[/centre]

‘Oh, beloved Patriarch, you have torn our hearts and crushed us with this act of yours. Our tears of misery cannot be shed, for if we did the earth would flood forever and a day. And so we must withhold,’ she stepped forward and took his hand in hers, and pressed its palm to her cheek, ‘there are none of us who lack absolute loyalty to you, absolute love, absolute esteem, unconditional, without limits or boundaries. And none could have loved and adored you more than your first-born, for he worshipped you as though you were a god – and you may well be,’ she pressed the back of his hand to her lips, 'oh wisest of men, forgive my tongue for it does stray: you have done a most foolish, most saddening thing this day,’ and with that, she turned away and went to join his other life-mates in the tent. She gave him no chance to respond, but she knew – as Eskandar knew – that there was nothing he could say. For she was right.

With Beru gone, Cala raised her lowered head and looked timidly towards Eskandar. She slowly stepped forward and planted a soft kiss on the back of his hand before raising her head – but her eyes remained lowered.

[centre][img]http://i.imgur.com/jm12mrL.png[/img]
Iron Cala, Justice of Eskandar, Fifth of the Patriarch’s Life-Mates[/centre]

‘Your pain is felt by us all, glorious adjudicator. You are the epitome of fairness and justice: neither blood nor love protects the wayward from you. You were a giant in our sight before this day, and with its coming you have become colossal. Our love grows for you, our admiration and adoration, our loyalty and our eagerness to do as you command,’ with her words done, she stood still until bloodied hand raised her chin and her eyes met his. A small shiver ran through her at looking directly at a being closer to divinity than he was to man, and she could not help but press herself ever so slightly towards him, for want of nearness.

‘Your words are as rain drops on my burnt and weeping heart, fairest Cala. Your pledge has been taken and you shall be held to it,’ and with that, he released her and she backed away ever so slowly, her eyes lowered once more.

Then was Anja, powerful of build, soft of eye. Her eyes betrayed little emotion, however – soft eyes, tender, yet no particular emotion was hinted at through them. Her smile was small, unhappy, but her eyes were far off. It was as though she did not see what was immediately before her, but what lay far off in mountains only she could see and under skies only she could witness.

[centre][img]http://i.imgur.com/Bke32Nf.png[/img]
Far-Eyed Anja, Ambition of Eskandar, Sixth of the Patriarch’s Life-Mates[/centre]

‘A day of your days, mighty Patriarch,’ she said simply before taking his hand in both of hers and planting a kiss on its back, ‘you shall find me ever loyal, ever willing that you grow ever greater and more mighty, more beloved to this here heart,’ she looked up at him, her far off eyes staring into those of her life-mate.

‘I shall ever test your loyalty, my Anja,’ he said before letting her go. And she too made her way towards the tent.
Last of his life-mates to step forward was Kae. Ever-smiling Kae, who brought laughter to his heart and eyes. Her face was grim and tears were rolling down her face as she came.

[centre][img]http://i.imgur.com/dcc2tA7.png[/img]
Kae of the Laughing Eyes, Lightheartedness of Eskandar, Seventh of the Patriarch’s Life-Mates[/centre]

‘Oh Eskandar,’ she whispered as she placed her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, ‘what have you done?’ and in that moment, he felt like a child who stood before his own mother, with no words to say for what he had done. The silence stretched out between them, and she did not let go of him.

‘Kae…’ he whispered, and she slowly pushed herself away from him and looked him in the eyes, her lips pressed tightly to one another. Such disappointment was there on her face as he could never have imagined would hurt him. Yet the look on his life-mate’s face hurt him deeply, hurt layered upon the hurt already within his heart.

‘Look at me not with those eyes,’ he moaned, unable to keep eye contact. She nodded slowly and backed away from him before she turned away and went to the mourning tent also. He watched her go, and a weight settled upon his shoulders and within his chest which he knew would never depart. And he felt himself age some hundred moons in that instant as the last of his life-mates walked away.

Then came his children, one by one, from the eldest to the youngest. Bato had been the eldest, but he was dead. So the first to come forth was Bato’s sister, Elia. She came forth and wordlessly kissed the back of his hand. Wordlessly she turned away, and wordlessly she walked from him. Then came Gar, son of Seri; Meli, daughter of Zekra; Sheb, son of Tse; Zeri, daughter of Seri; Sarin, daughter of Zekra; Caz, son of Tse; Tora, daughter of Seri; Hezric, son of Zekra was dead and so did not come; Palo, son of Beru; Orif, son of Cala; Derk, son of Tse; Reyk, son of Seri; Jarl, son of Anja; Wezar, son of Zekra; Rana, daughter of Kae; Verik, son of Beru; Meru, daughter of Cala; Buz, son of Tse; Mit, son of Anja; Po, son of Zekra; Lopa, daughter of Seri; Indi, daughter of Kae; Eril, daughter of Beru; Lez, daughter of Cala; Aya, daughter of Tse; Aril, daughter of Anja; Fen, daughter of Zekra; Yog, son of Seri; Bish, son of Beru; Vetri, son of Kae; Zana, daughter of Cala; Ana, daughter of Tse; Lida, daughter of Zekra; Yara, daughter of Seri; Walo, son of Beru; Zind, son of Anja; Klup, son of Kae; Raga, son of Cala; Banto, son of Tse; Sirta, daughter of Zekra; Thol, son of Seri; and Naka daughter of Beru. The other twenty-eight were yet young and had not proven themselves to be mature men and women.

Eskandar barely noticed the various husbands and wives of his children who came next, or the numerous grandchildren, many of them children of Bato. His mind was far off, weeping by a faraway star along with his heart and scarred soul. But when Maki came, carrying her daughter from Bato, he could take it no longer and turned away. What had he done? What would come of Maki, and would come of little Ely?

The Patriarch remained in his tent for many weeks, and he never emerged the man he was before.

[centre]***===***===***===***===***[/centre]

[i]Moon: 450[/i]
His eyes flashed, and before anyone could gather what was happening, the Patriarch had struck his grandson a mighty blow across the face. The sound alone stung the ear, and the boy flew a good few steps to the side from its strength.

‘You snivelling rat of a child! You dare utter a word against she who birthed you? You dare disobey he who raised you? And you challenge the one before whom your own father cowers in respect? You have strayed most grievously, and I will be the one to straighten what is skewed. Bring this upstart and gather the clan. By my honour and position among you, I will make an example of him yet!’

Two of Rak’s brothers were immediately upon him, and dragged him out after their grandfather, while a third went shrieking round the tents and fires and caves, calling the tribe to gather.

As the Patriarch passed by his own fire, he picked up his spear, which had been buried in the ground next to it. Seeing this, Rak’s mother, Meli, began to shriek in despair, and her shrieking did not stop even when all the tribe was stood in the Ring around their Patriarch, with the wayward grandson at his feet, held down by two of his own brothers.

‘I bring before you this upstart who seeks to usurp the rights of his betters, who disobeys those who have raised him and cared for him, who has forgotten the debt he owes, his very life, to his parents and his tribe and his Patriarch. His tongue has grown long and his hubris has become ugly and bloated – for his great height has deceived him, and his muscles have fooled him, and his power with a spear has blinded him, and he has become greatly deluded by the admiration he has received from us. Know this, oh you whom my blood runs through, oh Eskandars, a mother is to her child what I am to any one of you. Your father is to you what I am to you. The word of your sire, and the word of the one who bore you within her body, is Law upon you on matters whereon I am silent. And should they command you to do that which I have proscribed, then respect them and bend the knee before them and bring the matter to me, your lord, your Law and your Patriarch,’ and with that, he turned upon the boy who lay on the ground, whose eyes were wide with fear and face contorted in pain and sorrow. He would have spoken, but he dared not say a thing for he had been not been permitted.

‘Turn him onto his stomach,’ the Patriarch commanded. The two brothers looked up at their grandfather in puzzlement – was it not easier to strike him with the spear if he was on his back? – but they did as commanded. Eskandar raised the spear high, gripping it so close to the tip that the edge of his hand touched the stone. Before he could bring it down, however, his daughter’s shrieking started again and she was suddenly at his feet.

‘My master, my Patriarch, my sire, my protector and sustainer and cherisher, my great chief and chief of us all gathered here, we whom you have called Eskandars; I beg you, I beg you to have mercy. Your words have all been true, for your words are Law and your Law is Just and your Justice is Truth itself, but I beg you to have mercy, I beg that your mercy over-ride your absolute justice, for your mercy is greater than your justice. And were you to hold us all to account for how much we all stray from what you command, then we should have all received your just punishment. But ever has your mercy protected us from your rightful, just wrath,’ she kissed his naked feet and pressed her cheeks to them and repeated her implorations again and again. Eskandar’s eyes remained cold as he spoke.

‘Rejoice! For my mercy is ever greater than my wrath!’ and with that, he brought the spear down upon the offending boy. Her shrieks filled the skies for a few seconds before they died away completely. For Eskandar had not struck the boy a killing blow, but had instead struck him upon the buttock with the other end of the spear. He raised the rod and brought it down once more, and Rak cried out in pain. So long did he beat the impudent boy that the skin was flayed and blood spurted out. At last, however, he stopped.

‘Age has caught up with me and my arm pains me,’ he said to one of the boys holding him down, ‘take the spear and continue beating him until you tire, then let your other brother do likewise. Only then will his punishment be complete, though I think that such is too great a leniency from me,’ and with that, he handed over the spear and walked away to his tent where he sat and rubbed his hurting shoulder.

'Though the mind be ever-young, Time is a cruel mistress and grinds everyone.' 

As he sat in the tent, the newest of his life-mates, Bet, entered the tent.
'My Patriarch, are you well?' she asked softly. He nodded.
'Just my shoulders and arms. Not as young as I once was,' he chuckled. She smiled and nodded.
'Here, lie down and let me rub your back,' Eskandar nodded and lay on his stomach on the furs, and Bet began rubbing his pained back. Before long he began drifting off and was sleeping soundly.

With him asleep, Bet sat up and looked down at the man. He had savaged her tribe and captured her, and he had forced himself upon her. And he expected loyalty? Perhaps he truly had gotten too old.

From that sleep, the mighty Patriarch never awoke.