Some newly arrived women have an issue with the ap-Cantar's polygamous practices and come complaining to Hiwcantar. He refuses to forbid the practice and attempts to persuade them. They are calmed for now, but will likely keep complaining from time to time. Hiwcantar now dwells in an adobe home. Tara follows him everywhere. Not everyone is happy that she was declared his heir.
When they found Hiwcantar he was sat beneath a palm tree on the Tala, the little orphaned girl, Tara, whom he had declared his daughter and heir sat in his lap. His cloak was wrapped about her and, in the safety and warmth of her adoptive father, she slept peacefully. In the nights after the final battle she had not been able to sleep at all, awakening from nightmares and calling out now for her brother and now for her father and now for her mother. One of Hiwcantar's wives would attempt to soothe her, but she would not find calm until Hiwcantar himself came and whispered words of kindness and love. Wherever he went, she was as his shadow. Even when the great chief - exalted and mighty is he, perfect beyond the bounds of normal men and the chosen one of GREAT Cantar - went to answer the call of nature, Tara would be with him. 'Turn away child, it is not seemly for one to look on the nakedness of her father,' and she would obediently turn her gaze from him. And he would command her, and she would bring him some stones. 'This here is not stone, this here is unclean,' he would say, throwing away a dried piece of faeces so that nothing but stone and mud was left, 'with these you may clean yourself.'
'She is tied to you at the hip, father,' Julandara, already heavy with the child of the riverman she loved, would say when she saw them, and she would bring her new sister to her and ruffle her hair and rain kisses on her cheeks and lips and brow. But not all his children were as accepting of little Tara as was Julandara. The eldest of his sons, Hubcantar, hated the child with a passion and did nothing to hide it. He had come to him on the night of victory and spoken angrily about this decision. 'Father, you have humiliated and disgraced me before the people, you have raised this rivergirl - of unknown lineage and little status - above me in whose veins runs the purest blood. How can you command such things? Would you give the mantle of authority to an unworthy foreigner, and a woman no less!' Anger flashing in his eyes, Hiwcantar had risen and rebuked his son. 'Where were you, glorious Hubcantar, when we were besieged and dying? Where were you when our people were hurt and helpless? While you were hanging yourself on the illusion of your own worthiness, that little rivergirl was staring straight into the shining sun. You were never my heir, Hubcantar. I would sooner have chosen Julandara.' Hubcantar seemed taken aback by this revelation. 'B-but... my name... you ga-' 'It is tradition, boy. In time you will be relieved of it, and the cantar title will be given to she who is my heir. Now begone from my sight before I have your unworthy remains scattered in the Great Yellow Scourge.' He had never before spoken quite so harshly to the man, and it seemed to have crushed him utterly. Realising this, Hiwcantar spoke once more - 'you came here to question not only my authority, Hubcantar, but the authority of GREAT Cantar himself. If my words are harsh, then it is the harshness directed against all who deny our GREAT father. You have it in you to be worthy, you have it in you to sit beside him in honour and splendour - but rid from your mind all pretensions to leadership and focus your efforts instead on becoming truly worthy. Your blood is strong and strengthens you, but it alone will not see you through to worthiness, only your deeds will.' Hubcantar seemed to find some comfort in these words, but he said nothing in response. Rising, he nodded to his father before turning and leaving the newly-constructed abode house.
It was a multi-storeyed house with many rooms and a courtyard in the middle, large enough to house all of Hiwcantar's wives and infant children, and it was connected directly to the new storehouse, which was yet under construction. In aforetimes the ap-Cantar had not bothered to house their different wives in different tents, all of them lay with their men under one roof, but this had changed now. The riverfolk were strangers to the practice of taking on numerous wives, some were even disgusted or horrified by it, and so an unspoken compromise had been struck early on - the riverwomen would accept this ap-Cantar practice if it was agreed that each wife was housed separately from the other; if not her own abode then certainly her own quarters and bed. And it was so. And Hiwcantar now joyed in his fiery-eyed river beauty, laughing inwardly at her antics to garner his attention and absolute love. Sometimes she would deny him and not even look his way, feigning anger at one petty thing or another - perhaps she had seen him displaying affection to one of his other wives, or perhaps he had not visited her in one too many nights, or perhaps the sun was too high in the sky or too low, or perhaps she did not like the bedding. And then on other occasions she was as sweet and charming as a gazelle, seeing to his every need and raining her affections on him as generously as the Tala loosed its waters into the Sea of Souls. On such occasions he would tell her - 'Dorla, you are a woman to ride the rivers with,' and she would laugh out loud or smile shyly, or punch him in embarrassment, or she would take his head and bring it to her chest. Aye, if any were to ask then the answer was clear - despite all the troubles Mewar had brought upon them, great indeed were the blessings of GREAT Cantar.
But when they found Hiwcantar under the the palm tree on the Tala that day, it was clear to the great chief that trouble was afoot. Those who approached him were largely women, nearly all of them were carrying children, and others had little ones at their side in addition to those they carried. 'Peace, Hiwcantar!' declared an older one, and Hiwcantar responded to the greeting of peace with peace. 'We were promised security and safety and a good life, and that is why we came; but you are a sensuous and lewd people! Your men are not satisfied with one wife, they have three and four and five! You must put an end to this evil practice - and you must begin with yourself.' Hiwcantar raised an eyebrow at this strange demand. 'You are Ofrita are you not?' Hiwcantar asked. The older woman seemed surprised that he knew her name, but she nodded. 'That is me.' 'Are you a married woman, Ofrita?' asked the chief, his voice calm yet intrinsically commanding respect and attention. 'No, I am not, for my man was killed in the war.' She did not say it with any great degree of sadness, 'and before him I had others, some died of illness, others in raids, and others yet of unfortunate accidents.' 'And who cares for you now, pray tell?' She crossed her arms and did not respond. 'Who feeds you and provides for you and houses you?' 'We all get our sustenance from the storehouse, as does everyone else! And we work the fields - we earn what we eat!' Hiwcantar was silent, and they stared at each other for some time. Her lips were pursed and she scowled, 'alright! It is you who provides for us, oh great chief!' Ignoring her insolent tone, he continued. 'And who is it that protects you?' 'Why the warriors of course, just as they protect everyone else,' said Ofrita. 'And who ensures that the warriors do not abuse you and that those stronger than you do not steal from you and do not deny you the good things?' Ofrita was quiet, and spoke after a while. 'You do, we know this - but what is the point of all this questioning? It has nothing to do with the vile and evil practice we wish to see gone.' 'It is simple, old Ofrita - you women have no guardians; no fathers or husbands or uncles or brothers. You came to us widows with children, and you placed yourselves under my protection. Had you male relatives, they would have cared for you - and those women who came to us with male relatives are indeed under their guardianship. If they wish to marry, their guardian manages that. Now all of you are under my personal guardianship. In many ways, all of you are my wives, for I-' but Hiwcantar could not finish, for his words brought about shouts of shock and outrage. The noise was so great that Tara, sleeping in his lap, awoke. Ofrita soon managed to calm the women down and turned on Hiwcantar angrily.
'That was a lewd and licentious thing to say, Hiwcantar! Have you no shame? I am old enough to be your mother!' The great chief laughed. 'Marriage has many parts - there is joy in it and laughter, there is peace, companionship, and there is protection. What I mean when I say that you are my wives is that you are under my personal protection. You will find men, and you will marry them even if they are married already. They will house you and protect you and care for you, and they will see to all of your needs as you will see to theirs. That is our way and it is a goodly way - think on it: there are many more women than men due to the war, if we were to insist that men may only marry one woman than there will be great woe and great corruption. The unwed women would have no way of seeing to their needs but through evil and dishonourable acts, and I am not one who willingly lets loose evil and dishonour amongst my people. Go ye forth, and when a man approaches you for marriage do not shun him - there is good in it.' And then he stepped forth with a smile on his face and extended his hand to the old Ofrita, 'so what do you say, old woman, will you marry me?' She pursed her lips and slapped his hand. 'Stupid boy,' she muttered irritably, though she could not completely hide her sudden openness to the prospect. Ofrita turned and walked off, and some of the women looked from her to Hiwcantar and back again. It seemed that he had calmed them for now, but it was far from the last time he would hear of it, he knew.
I) Take diplomatic action - After a grueling war with Mewar, the ap-Cantar send a diplomatic envoy bearing a terrible gift, and they offer the Mewaris a choice: brotherhood or the sword.
But the words and declarations of treacherous Mewar did not shake the hearts of the ap-Cantar. For a time Miksuin continued scouting and noted the ever greater concentration of people in Mewar's camps. After discussing this state of affairs with Furrayn, it was agreed that such a great gathering would require a great amount of food for sustenance. Their strategy would lie in denying them that food. And so Miksuin stood before his amassed troops and declared that soon the ap-Cantar would march against Mewar and destroy him utterly. He would stand trial for his crimes and for sowing discord in the land when the GREAT Cantar himself had decreed peace and harmony and brotherhood between them all. He declared that all of Tilaticantar would march forth and rip apart the rebel and those who chose to side with him. Such were the words of Miksuin.
And when night returned the warriors split up into thirty groups of three and so began the hunt. When Mewar's hunters left the camp to find food, Miksuin's men ambushed them - some they killed and some they imprisoned and sent back in disgrace and humiliation to Mewar's camp, that they may know in their hearts the superiority of the ap-Cantar. And when the riverfolk ventured forth and attempted to begin farming the land, Miksuin's men would strike, destroying what they attempted to plant and warding them off. And when Mewar's warriors began attempting to protect these farmers, Miksuin's men laid low and did not strike - until they looked through the defences and saw an opening; the blow was swift and mighty then! Even on the river did Miksuin's men lie in wait, sending burning rafts at the fishing boats to scare them away, or passing by on their own boats and pelting the fishermen with little stones.
This continued for two days, but on the third Miksuin discovered to his peril that Mewar had laid a trap. A small party ventured out by the evening sun as if to forage for food in secret, but when the scouts reported this and Miksuin gathered his men to prepare an ambush, it was his own men who were surprised. Waiting for the attackers were no less than twenty warriors, and those foragers that had been the bait revealed themselves to be warriors too as they dropped their sacks to the ground and drew clubs from within. Of the ten that Miksuin had sent to ambush the enemy, only four returned that night. The other six came in the next morning, each one a head shorter.
Emboldened by his success, Mewar began to send out parties that were larger yet; thirty, forty men each, patrolling the hills and riverside groves where they suspected Miksuin to make his headquarters. Their numbers rendered them slow and easily evaded, and some of Miksuin's skirmishers would occasionally erupt from cover to pepper the advancing warbands with javelins; the Mewari would retaliate with their slings and then take up chase (to no avail), but both sides were so wary of one another that such skirmishes rarely resulted in doing anything more than setting the other on edge.
Miksuin continued his ferocious raiding campaign unrelentingly. By now his men had become accustomed to the lay of the land and their training was beginning to show itself. Operating in small groups they continued to disrupt Mewar's food supplies, and even began striking against people journeying south to join Mewar, telling them to go back home and, if they refused, sending them to GREAT Cantar as slaves in the afterlife. It seemed that Miksuin had settled into the long game - how would Mewar keep his people fed? It was only a matter of time. And with even greater fury did the intensity of the Mewari patrols increase; as time went on, a few trios of the ap-Cantar raiders were caught by the enemy, and their grisly remains were left in the open for their brethren to stumble upon. Yet as the days turned to weeks, the Mewari began sallying out with increasing frequency and there began to be signs of desperation. Bands of warriors accompanied foraging parties as they tried to keep food stores up, and Miksuin's spies heard that Mewar planned to contact the settlements upriver to arrange for some guarded convoys of food and other supplies to be delivered. Meanwhile, those large patrolling warbands were growing somewhat bolder and more brazen in hunting for Miksuin's camp; doubtless they were hoping to stumble upon the enemy's camp and raid it for supplies.
But in all of that, Mewar seemed to have no clear goal beyond waiting in vain for the ap-Cantar to march upon his position for a decisive battle. Since Miksuin and Furrayn knew better than to give him the fight that he wanted and needed, it seemed as though the Mewari had no path to victory. Through attrition of their foodstores and morale, they would slowly crumble. Mewar's hubris continued for some time; he would give rousing speeches with increasing furore and deliver promises of vengeance for the fallen. But then two days passed without Miksuin's spies reporting any speech. Perhaps the upstart was beginning to see the hopelessness and futility of his fight!
But despite this promising development, morale amongst Miksuin's men was low and plummeting by the day. They had lost over thirty of the original ninety warriors - some bodies had been sent back to Tilaticantar to be delivered into the service of GREAT Cantar, but the bodies of others were lost. With Mewar's speeches halted and with his people's desperation clear, Miksuin ordered his men to deliver a message to the people of the camp - and it was thus:
Your desperation and weakness are clear to us, who are made mighty. You cannot muster the strength to reach for the bounty sprawled all about you. It is now as it was in bygone times - you are weak and humiliated, we are mighty and take what we will and deny you all. But that is not the way it is meant to be - Hiwcantar, the great and glorious and endlessly wise, has received visions from the GREAT Cantar. And he wills that you are our brothers - though you have, some of you in error and some of you out of a hatred that knows no end - have struck out against us most unjustly when we have offered you food and shelter and safety and strength. But though you are wayward, yet GREAT Cantar declares you our brothers, and we know well that you have it in you to be strong - if only you could put your petty hatreds aside. Hear it from us now, for this is the kindness of the strong when he is in ascendance, the wisdom of the mighty in victory, the grace of those who lead the way: we leave you now and shall taunt and pain you no more. You shall hunt and you shall farm and you shall eat. And you shall know that we are merciful, and that we are your brothers. And when you have eaten and known the goodness of this land to you when you are as one with us, you will come to us and accept us willingly. This is the word, so throw it not back at us and let there be no need for our return to this miserable state. Eat and drink, for now you are free.
And with that message, Miksuin took his remaining fifty-four warriors and began the slow journey to Furrayn and Tilaticantar. And the men were merry and the going was leisurely, for the war had come to an end by their will and command. Only for the good will and bravery that the messenger showed in delivering that message to their hands was he spared and allowed to return to his fellows and march homeward by their side; in the distance, the wary eyes of Mewari scouts watched the ap-Cantar leave, and soon after the foragers began to once more spill outward and harvest the land's bounty. But the warriors did not return to their homes upstream as the ap-Cantar might have hoped, and nor did Mewar make any appearance, for he had already been on the move with a hundred of his best warriors.
In claiming often, and loudly, his intent to resist the ap-Cantar incursions and fend them off when he came, Mewar knew that eventually the ap-Cantar would learn of his words and witness his actions, and eventually they would come to believe that they knew his nature and his plans. In reality it had been his plan all along to draw out the ap-Cantar; he chose this position a few days' travel upriver to lure the ap-Cantar on a campaign far from their homes in Tilaticantar, and he raised a great army not because he intended to meet the entirety of the ap-Cantar upon the field and test his strength against theirs, but because he had wanted a distraction. So it was that even as Miksuin and his men spent the last few days of their campaign witnessing the decline of their enemy's morale and inexplicable disappearance of Mewar, the young chieftain had already left his camp in the dead of night and traveled into the desert wastes to the south. There he had begun to make his way east in secret, toward Tilaticantar, bypassing Miksuin and his scouts. The warriors that he had left to defend the camp had tried to send word to him that the ap-Cantar had proclaimed the war finished and began returning to their lands in peace, but it was too late. By then Mewar and his warriors had already begun their assault.
The sun had barely began to impose itself upon the world when the cry of the ap-Cantar sentries rose. A horde of Mewari warriors had emerged all of a sudden - well-hidden in the long-grass along the Tala's banks - and now charged like a torrential wave at Furrayn's encampment only a mile from Tilaticantar. The ap-Cantar warriors shook themselves from the embrace of sleep and, without entirely being awake, reached for their spears and shields. But it was too little too late. Mewar's endless horde streamed into the camp even as stones rained from the heavens. Individual warriors raised their shields and attempted to fight the good fight, but that was not the way they had trained to fight. Perhaps if they had met Mewar's forces on the field, perhaps if they had been in the formation so tirelessly drilled into them, they would have had a chance. But this was not their day. Furrayn, his spear raised, could be seen signalling and shouting for his men to fall back and regroup in formation, but the Mewaris were too many and too swift. Already they had surrounded the camp and Furrayn's forces were fighting on all fronts. Completely encircled as they were, those who remained finally managed to get into some semblance of a formation. Wicker shields raised and spears at the ready, the ap-Cantar wall faced the Mewari flood. From within the mass of the Mewari, there rang out a familiar voice, "Slings!"
The Mewari infantry backed a short distance from the shieldwall that had rallied about their general, and then they drew their slings and began to hurl an unending hail of stones upon Furrayn's men. Were it not for their wicker shields they would have been broken apart, struck down, and scattered within the first few volleys, but as it was they were merely suppressed. The stones came from the front and the sides, aimed high so as to fall upon their heads and low so as to strike their torsos and knees, so even with their shields the ap-Cantar were battered and pushed back. But after what might have been only a minute (though it certainly felt like much longer to they who suffered), the Mewari reached into the pouches of stones that they carried, only to find that they had no more ammunition to maintain the barrage. The damage had already been done, though. The voice of Mewar rang out once more, "Charge them now! Drive them into the river!" Then with a roar, Mewar himself threw his sling into a pocket, took up his spear from where he had laid it by his feet, and led the assault.
Even before the last stone had landed, Furrayn's men were backing away, closer and closer towards the river. When the stones stopped and Mewar ordered the charge, Furrayn too ordered a charge - 'To the river!' There was a moment of confusion before his men turned their backs to the enemy and charged towards the river. Furrayn led them and, coming to the bank of the quick-moving, deep Tala, dropped his spear and shield into it and leapt. The tide immediately swept him and he swam with it. Behind him his men also leapt in and were swept by the river. On the banks ap-Cantar warriors fought the horde as they swiftly retreated into the river. They would eventually get to Tilaticantar, Furrayn had reasoned, and there they would be saved and be able to mount a real defence. No doubt Hiwcantar had already heard the sounds of battle and would be preparing with the few warriors he yet had with him.
It was not long before Tilaticantar grew close enough for those who were strong swimmers to scramble out of the river and rush towards the town. Others - mainly those who were not riverfolk - needed help from fishermen to get out. Spears were also grabbed and thrown onto the riverbank where it was possible, though many of the shields - destroyed as they were - were left to flow into the sea. Wet though they were, the sun was already fully in view and warmed their wet bodies. Furrayn spoke with Hiwcantar hurriedly, and within minutes his warriors - reduced now to some forty-five men - were soon at the ready. Even from here Mewar's forces could be seen, and they were quickly approaching. And then Hiwcantar spoke.
'You can see him, who was our brother. You can see him there. He comes to slay us all - those who have been his brethren an age and those who became his brethren but yesterweek. This is the flame that sears our people into one nation. So pick up your staves and your sticks, pick up your clubs and slings, bring too your fishing nets. We who are the denizens of Tilaticantar, the chosen town of GREAT Cantar, shall fight as one in defence of the good place!' And so Hiwcantar assembled the old and the young, men be they or women, and they found whatever could be used as a weapon and stood at the ready.
Not long after Hiwicantar and his people's hasty preparations had been complete, Mewar and his host were at the town's outskirts. He had realized Furrayn's intention to fall back to Tilaticantar and regain his strength, so the young chieftain had forbidden his warriors from celebrating their victory too soon. He had immediately regrouped his host, and while they wasted no time looting their fallen enemies, they took a few minutes to gather more slinging stones from the river's shore. After that, they had advanced upon the settlement at a mild jog so as to avoid exhausting themselves before the second fight began. As they came to the edge of the town, they fanned out and began to prod at its defenses, using their slings to fire shots here and there down the small dirt streets and between the adobe homes.
A shadow was spied there, a spectre seen here, but to all extents and purposes the place seemed deserted. All was quiet. Mewar expected a trap, for if it had been Hiwicantar's intent to flee, they would have surely seen a trail of refugees leaving the settlement, or at least signs of it. No, they were all here. But Mewar knew how to lure them out. He had lived in this place once, not so long ago, so he knew his way about the place. Continuing to skirt around the settlement in the morning sun, he led his soldiers towards the ap-Cantar's storehouses. But all they found there were the burned remains that Mewar had left behind when he betrayed and abandoned the ap-Cantar. He had expected them to have rebuilt it anew and made a great deal of all their supposed might and invulnerability, but there the charred remnants remained as a scar upon the ap-Cantar. The town was quiet still. Quiet as death on a bright summer morn. It seemed to stare at Mewar, its silence seemed to bore into him, challenging, daring and, ultimately, contemptuous.
He smashed the silence with a mighty roar. "Is this Cantar's way? To prey upon the weak, and then cower in fear when one is met by a readied foe? I will take your head, Hiwicantar! I will have it, for all the evils that you have wrought upon me in the past! My heart and my mind remember your crimes, and no amount of professed brotherhood shall be enough to stay my spearhand. All that would stand with you are my enemies!" Then a figure appeared. He walked calmly from the darkness of an alley. He was tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed. Spear in one hand and a fishing net in the other.
'You are no brother of ours, Mewar!' Came the giant's voice. 'The sands, the plains, the trees know me well; the spear, the shield, the fighting men. You proclaim yourself a warrior and leader, yet you only seem to know craftiness and scheming. You strike the turned back of your brothers, and you strike the honourable foe when he grants you peace and gives his back. There is no honour in the likes of you, Mewar. If you would prove your honour and your strength, then come face me now!'
"Peace? Ha, peace! They call it peace when they send the snake Miksuin and his bands to attack our fishers and our farmers and then flee from our warriors. They call it peace when he raids us for weeks without end. I grow tired of your mockery; if your warriors would not face me then and they would not just now, why should I owe you a battle man to man? Slings, ready!" The words had hardly escaped Mewar's mouth before the first of his warriors had put stones into the folds of their slings and begun swinging them overhead. Perhaps three moments later, the first stones arced towards the beast of a man. Fuldondar stood unwavering before the hail, his spear planted in the ground and the net in hand. The stones pierced his proud body, but he neither bent nor fell before the onslaught. Bloodied in more places than could be counted, he stood staring and defiant still. Aye, he stood though he was dead.
There emerged then another man, smaller in stature than Fuldondar. 'This is a war of your making, Mewar. You have betrayed, and you have severed the knot of union and let it fall away and splinter. You have sown discord between all the people when GREAT Cantar him-'
"I'll suffer that name no longer!" Mewar screamed then, with all the unbound fury of a boy who was orphaned by the progeny of the man who carried that name. "He made this war, He who is the incarnation of the demons that dwell in what you call the Yellow Scourge; nay, he who is and was the Yellow Scourge. In his time he led your people to torment my ancestors, and in your day you did the same; I remember seeing my own kindred thrown into the river by ap-Cantar hands and left to drown. Cantar has taught me how to hate, and from that hatred I have learned to kill. We will wipe his bloodline from the face of the earth!"
There was nothing more to be said. Mewar suddenly charged with a speed and rage that not even his own men had expected, and then he was suddenly ten yards ahead of them as he threw himself toward the enemy with reckless abandon. The small man took a few steps back before turning swiftly and sprinting into the safety of the town. Like a guardian did the dead Fuldondar stand, his eyes staring ahead, unafraid in the face of Mewar's ignoble and treacherous act. The town remained silent and still even as Mewar and his warriors rushed in, streaming into the narrow alleys. Then there emerged the denizens of Tilaticantar on the rooftops, and they began to rain death upon the heads of Mewar and his warriors. Stones, javelins, clubs, they hurled them at the foe who had come slaying. Some had sharpened bamboo sticks which were long enough to stab at the warriors below again and again. Mewar leaped to the ground and rolled as if animated by some ungodly force, dodging the first line of projectiles. Most of the solders behind him were not so fortunate; some tried to retaliate with their slings, but it was a losing proposition. Most ran towards the nearest adobe huts in search of cover.
From the doorways of the nearest abodes emerged some of Furrayn's veterans, ragged but still deadly, with spears and orders to prevent the enemy from entering the homes so as to seek cover from the slaughter outside. One of those ap-Cantar warriors had found a spare shield, and with it and a spear he managed to push back and skewer two of the Mewari. In a wild frenzy, Mewar approached the man. He predicted the thrust of his enemy's spear and twisted to the side of it, then drove his own spear through that warrior's foot. He kicked the howling man over, and even as the struggling warrior tried using his shield to push off Mewar, the youth drew his club and brought it down upon the man's head again and again until he stopped struggling. Then Mewar went further into the shadow of the hut, and there was suddenly an icy pain through his chest. He tried to twist around, but his body wouldn't obey. He craned his neck back to look at the wall besides the doorway and the corpse of the man he'd just slain, and there in the shadows he saw a girl of perhaps seven. She was holding the haft of the spear that went through his back. He stared at her for a few moments longer; she looked just like his niece, the one that they had thrown into the river. And then with that stupid look of disbelief still upon his face, Mewar fell and was no more.
Tara stared wide-eyed at the dead man before hefting the spear and huddling up in the darkness. She eyed the corpses without blinking, and her hands shook ever so slightly. She sat like that for long, until the sound of screaming and shouting died down. And when silence reigned she remained still and waited. Eventually a head appeared, looking in, and there were shouts and cries. And then the chief appeared and inspected the scene, and he looked upon the little girl with his severe eyes. And he smiled and brought the girl to him, and he lifted her on his shoulder and she was paraded through the town. And the people raised their arms before her and ululated. And her brow was wetted with the waters of the Tala and the chief declared her his own daughter, his own flesh and blood, and his own heir.
It was some days later before Miksuin and his men returned, and when they learned of Mewar's treachery they were taken up in a great rage and pledged to destroy utterly the people of Mewar. But Hiwcantar bid them be calm, and he brought to them the body of Mewar and bid them travel with it up the Tala and show it to his people that they may know the price of treachery. 'And impress upon them our might and our strength, and let it be known that forgiveness will only be granted to them who embrace our protection. As for those who choose to be of the rejectors, never shall we trust them and never shall they know peace, and they shall be cursed, and their lot shall be death and suffering forever and aye. Let it be known - it is to live with us as brothers, in peace and security and honour, or it is the way of treachery and cowardliness and death; the way of Mewar. They have flouted the peace we granted, and now they are to choose: to live in peace, or to rest in it.' And Miksuin did sally up the Tala, and he went to deliver the steely message. He knew that the Mewari would have already heard news of the defeat, for some among Mewar's host had escaped the trap and fled back to the desert, slowly making their way back to their camp and evading Miksuin's returning force a second time. Still, he had no fear; the Mewari were broken now, a beast without teeth, for their leader was dead and they bore his rotting body to prove it.
X) Take All Necessary Steps to Facilitate Bringing Mewar to Justice (due to the unique conditions the ap-Cantar are going through, this is a mixture of B, E, and I)
Outraged by Mewar's treachery, Hiwcantar pledges vengeance and sets about establishing a more concrete military structure for his warriors. They are split into divisions and subdivisions, leaders are selected through a largely meritocratic process, and various training methods are used to improve the warriors and innovate new tactics. Once this is complete, Hiwcantar has found two fairly competent generals whom he sends out to seek out Mewar. For now they are to tread lightly and carry a big stick. Meanwhile Hiwcantar talks to those ap-Cantar women who have married men of the riverfolk and encourages them to ensure their men's loyalty to the new, divinely-ordained order.
And the rage of Hiwcantar was something terrible and vicious. And he brought close his bone-tipped spear and he swore oaths and pledged pledges, and spoke he such words as did effect, in the eyes of the people, the consecration of his life to the purpose of the destruction of Mewar and his progeny. 'The spears shall be sharpened, our fires fed, and our eyes set ablaze. And with the fire that Mewar thought to smite us shall he be smote in time. For his sacrileges against brotherhood and union and goodness and good faith, for his crimes in the good place, his blood shall be made to expire forevermore! GREAT Cantar be our witness!'
And without pausing to bemoan or grieve over the loss of the storehouse did Hiwcantar gather every able-bodied warrior - man or woman. And he set them to training and preparing, and he had them spar with hand and spear. And when in all this they satisfied the great chief, he divided them into groups of nine - calling every such group a tosa -, and he assigned to each tosa a leader, a qortosa. Then during the night and during the day, on the river or in the trees or on the plains, he had them hunt each other and partake in mock raids. And Hiwcantar watched them, noting those who excelled in leading others, and those who excelled and gloried in the fight itself, and those who were used best in support positions. When in all this Hiwcantar was satisfied, he joined the tosas together into four groups of forty-five. And each of these larger groups he called a soga, and the finest qortosas were assigned the leadership of the soga, and given the status of qorsoga. Then Hiwcantar had the sogas face each other in huge raids. Some of these were on the plains, others in the trees, and others on the banks of the Tala. And he watched and noted how each of the sogas was led, watched how different methods were used to attain victory on different terrains and weathers and times of day.
One qorsoga, Miksuin, gave his tosas great flexibility, coming to an understanding about the overall strategy to be adopted while at the same time permitting individual qortosas to make immediate tactical decisions based on how engagements were progressing. This gave him an edge in forested terrain where large groups moving together could be easily ambushed. But it also meant his troops did not focus on him and his commands but rather deferred to their qortosa. Hiwcantar noted that this also meant that should Miksuin ever be slain, it would not have too damaging an effect on the morale or efforts of his warriors.
Another qorsoga, Furrayn, exhibited a deeply innovative mind and had his warriors form up in ranks of nine, five men deep. They could be seen advancing in formation on the plains, their spears at the ready. This proved somewhat effective when they were charged by massed warriors without formation, and became more so when Furrayn began arming his warriors with wicker shields. But it was not as effective when the enemy scattered and adopted hit-and-run tactics. The strength of Furrayn's formation was that it massed his force in one place, outmatching and overpowering the enemy in one disciplined and calculated engagement. When the enemy did not play according to those rules that same strength and rigidity became a weakness. The enemy had to be pressed against a wall for this to work... seated on a far hill watching Miksuin's forces outrun and outmanoeuvre those of Furrayn, Hiwcantar saw that clearly. In open battle and swift raids, it was Miksuin who dominated. But when the enemy was forced to defend settlements, was forced to face the ap-Cantar in a decisive engagement, it would be the strategy of Furrayn that wins the day.
Satisfied that he had found the two men who would lead the ap-Cantar in this expedition to bring back Mewar, Hiwcantar brought the four sogas together into two main units made up of ninety warriors each, which he dubbed julas. The first jula was placed under the command of qoljula Miksuin and was commanded to conduct a mass scouting operation of the regions upriver. 'The settlements, the people, their fighting power, where Mewar is hiding out. Find out and report back to me. At any one time a scouting operation should not have more than three warriors - and generally, do not operate in groups smaller than that. Do not attack anyone, do not raid. Simply watch and collect information.'
Then turning to Furrayn, he spoke. 'March your jula a mile or so upriver and set up camp there. Wait on Miksuin's reports. If you find out where Mewar is hiding, send messengers bidding those whom he has sought refuge with to release him into ap-Cantar hands, for he is a criminal who has sabotaged the food of the people and sought their destruction. That he cares little for ties of blood or divinely ordained union and sought with his dark deeds the destruction of all. Assure them also that he will have opportunity to defend himself if he is innocent. We are a fair and God-fearing people after all!' And with his commands given, the warriors of the ap-Cantar marched out. Hiwcantar remained with some five other warriors and continued to see to the day-to-day affairs of the new community. He watched the riverfolk, and from time to time he sat with those women of the ap-Cantar who had married men of the riverfolk and bid them strive to gain the loyalty of their men, that the ideas of evildoers like Mewar would not take root and that they may see that true bliss lies in this new order.
And the great chief would from time to time go forth to the fields and plough, and he would set out to the river and fish, and he would listen close to what was being spoken and he would also speak - and he would joke and laugh, and he would drop pearls of wisdom also. And when night dawned he would sit by a fire on the Tala and speak for long with one group or another. And he would ask after their health and how they found life to be now that GREAT Cantar had deemed it fit to unite their people in peace and brotherhood. And he would speak of Mewar sometimes, and he would express great sorrow at the crime, great horror at the thought that in his blind hatred Mewar would seek to condemn them all to starvation and death. 'And yet I find myself thinking sometimes - what if he is innocent and 'tis all a great misunderstanding? I would not hesitate to welcome him back into the fold. We are all brothers now, you understand? One tribe, one people, and one glorious destiny to see out.' And those were the days and nights of wise Hiwcantar with his people in the times of the Mewarian calamity.
X) Other. Perhaps the chieftain sees some use for them that the others cannot?
The Riverfolk are to be intermarried with and brought into the ap-Cantar fold.
A) Improve food
The Riverfolk fisher-farmer economy is to be rejuvenated, this time with the stability and security provided by ap-Cantar protection rather than raiding. The chief encourages ap-Cantar men and women to learn from the Riverfolk and help.
'What is to be done then, Hiwcantar, about the river people? They are weak and conquered, they could scarcely fight us when they had their freedom - as our slaves and bonsmen they will surely never think to fight at all. Let us keep them as our inferiors - to build, to fish, and to plough the earth in the strange manner that they do that wheat and grain may emerge from the bowels of the earth. They are not fighters, true, but they have knowledge which we would be wise indeed to use.' Ingantir, the youngest of Hiwcantar's uncles, was the speaker. The elders of the ap-Cantar nodded sagely as they considered the man's words. Many were those gathered around Hiwcantar under the palm tree - uncles and grand-uncles, brothers, and other clan chieftains of the ap-Cantar.
'Ingantir is wise, we should keep them as slaves,' spoke the ancient Howandar, the oldest man yet living, 'but they are not all weak - I see in some of them the same fire that burns fiercely in those of our blood. We should keep the weak as slaves, but the strong we should bring close. Offer them our daughters in marriage that the blood of GREAT Cantar may flow in the veins of their progeny and their strength and our strength mingle, and that we may become as a single nation. The strong to rule and the weak to serve.' There were murmurs at this proposition, some uncertain and some emphatically for - indeed, many had seen the river women and their great beauty and skin dark as the mud of the riverbed, and they had in their hearts and loins desired them.
'NAY!' declared a mad-eyed man, tall in stature and rippling with an unearthly power. Even with fifty years behind him, Fuldondar was the unrivalled champion and warrior of the ap-Cantar, and his eyes constantly burned with a battle-crazy. He was touched by GREAT Cantar - a blessing and a curse. 'They are a weak and despicable race, unworthy and despised. As a mark of our respect and gratitude to GREAT Cantar we should slaughter them all and have their blood flow into the Sea of Souls - and then we should burn their unworthy bodies and scatter their ashes into the Great Yellow Scourge. That is the way.' Silence followed as the elders considered the options. Brows furrowed, Hiwcantar sat thinking.
'Advise us, Hiwcantar. You are the lord and master of the ap-Cantar - you have been shown visions and given sight. Surely, nephew, you know the way.' Hiwcantar looked to his uncle Virimdantar and nodded.
'We shall slaughter them. We have no need for a weak people amongst us. I shall meditate on this matter and, if GREAT Cantar is pleased with it, then we shall do it tomorrow.' The decision was met with silence - and shock by some. Fuldondar smiled in satisfaction. The council dispersed, some walking away in groups and speaking anxiously, others trying to speak to Hiwcantar. When he had retreated to his tent and sat deep in thought, one of his daughters came and lay beside him. And she pressed her lips to his forehead and he felt her tears. 'What is it Julandara?' His anger rising at the thought that someone should have caused his daughter grief, he rose and wiped her tears, 'who has caused you misery? Speak and I shall have their eyes gorged and their skin flayed and their tongue torn.' Julandara looked away, her lip quivering. 'Is it true, father, what the people are saying? Have you condemned the riverfolk to death?' He frowned and stiffened. 'I have decreed it so, yes. And I shall consult with our GREAT father tonight and ask him for guidance.' She just about stifled a sob. 'That is a terrible thing, father. I beseech you, by all things good and by this good place and by the worthiness of your heart, do not slay them.' He looked at her strangely and, leaning in close, whispered to her. 'There is more to this, is there not? Why is the fate of the riverfolk of such importance to you?' She looked away shyly and pursed her lips. 'Father, don't ask such things. It would be unseemly for a daughter to speak of things so low...' Hiwcantar's intelligent eyes caught on to her meaning and he laughed suddenly. 'You are smitten? You find one from amongst them that pleases you?' She covered her face with two hands and looked away. 'So you think they have it in them to be worthy, these riverfolk?' He asked her, lying back down. 'I do father. I think they can be a boon to us, and we a boon to them, if only we brought them close.' 'How can they be a boon to us, daughter, when they are lowly and weak? If we bring them close we may strengthen them, but they will also weaken us.' She shook her head. 'No father! That can never and will never be - for there flows within us the blood of GREAT Cantar. Just as we are a conquering people, ours is a conquering blood. It can never be corrupted or tainted or diluted - it purifies and is not corrupted, strengthens and is not weakened, conquers and is not conquered.' 'You mean to say that we can simply breed them into full-blooded ap-Cantars?' She blushed, though he did not see it in the darkness, then she nodded. 'In so many words, father. Yes. And they are strong - have you looked at them closely? Even their womenfolk... it is not out of weakness that we bested them, it is because they had no knowledge of war or of fighting. They ploughed the land and hunted the river and sea for its richest. If we brought them close and taught them and learned from them... why, we would be the terror of the rivers and deserts and plains.' Hiwcantar considered his daughters words then nodded and patted her shoulder. 'I have heard what you have to say, Julandara, and I shall consider it. Go now. I shall inspect these people more closely and I shall ask GREAT Cantar for guidance.' She kissed his forehead once more and thanked him before leaving the tent. After some time, Hiwcantar rose and walked in the darkness until he came upon a group of the riverfolk sitting around a fire. They looked up at him - women and children mainly, and a few men - with fear. But one of them had anger in her eyes. He gestured for that one to come closer. She looked away and ignored him at first, but then he called out to her and the others forced her up and nudged her towards him. She stormed over to him irritably and stood with her arms crossed.
She had a strong jaw, enticing lips, an elegant, flat, wide nose. Her hair was pitch black and curled in infinitesmally small curls, braided in the way of the riverfolk. He reached out and pinched her arm. Shouting out, she pushed him away forcefully. The chief stumbled back from the strength she displayed. Raising an eyebrow, he smiled. She seemed taken aback by this reaction, but the defiance in her eyes remained. 'You have fire, that is good. And you have strength. A worthy woman.' And so saying he turned away and returned to his tent.
When morning broke he rose and walked to the river bank, where he stood upon a large rock. The people gathered around him and he declared that GREAT Cantar did not wish for the blood of these people - it was of no use to him, exalted and mighty is he! Nor did he require slaves - he was free of need for them, capable of building and fighting without help or aid. But GREAT Cantar would permit these people to prove themselves, and he would honour them and cast his mercy and grace upon them: in the blood of their progeny would flow his blood, and they will be raised and honoured, and they would be ap-Cantars.
'This is the command of GREAT Cantar -
Let your women take of their men,
Those deemed mighty and wise
And your men give to their women
Pleasure between their thighs
So that a race of men should rise
With strength and wisdom and blood ties
To shake the pillars of the skies
So go forth few and many, woo them to your tents and pleasure them and in them. Sow your seeds and make it so that they freely give you their bodies and hearts. And when this our great union bears its fruits, they will be ap-Cantar and our conquest complete!' And his decree given, the chief descended from the rock and went to find and woo a certain fiery-eyed beauty.
***
The banks of the River Tala were fertile. The river itself brimmed with fish, and the Sea of Souls into which it fed was a source of great bounty. The Riverfolk knew well how to salvage the good things of the river and earth and sea. And the ap-Cantar knew well how to raid them and take for themselves what the tip of the spear earned for them. Now that the warrior-race had settled and chosen to uplift and strengthen these unwarring people, the ap-Cantar found in themselves a curiosity and need for the knowledge they had - the survival and growth of Tilaticantar - with its hundreds of denizens - depended on making use of the bounties of earth and river and sea. And so even as the construction of the great town continued, the people set about sowing the fields once more and building fishing boats and preparing fishing nets. The Riverfolk showed them how to harvest salt from the sea and then how to preserve fish and other things in salt. The first of Tilaticantar's buildings to be completed was a great storehouse, and the surplus fish caught was placed in baskets and preserved in salt there.
The fields were sown as they had never been sown in living memory - for now there were no ap-Cantar raiding and looting and casting fear into the hearts of all. When the harvesting season came, the town would be complete and there would be plenty. And there would be bread, and there would be fish, and there would be joy and optimism. And the ap-Cantar would cast their eyes upriver, and they would sharpern their spears...
And when the fifth Heat of the reign of Hiwcantar was upon the people, and the sun waxed mighty and spared none the lash of its fiery scourge, there descended upon Hiwcantar, master and lord of the warriors and womenfolk of the ap-Cantar, a vision. And it was thus -
March ye forth, Oh strong ap-Cantar March ye forth most bravely March till you see the morning star And the spreading soul sea And there you must both saw and hack Devestate them with your attack And build a town for me
So he awoke and rose, that Hiwcantar, and he woke his people also and commanded them to gather up the tents and the spears and walk with him in the night. 'But Hiwcantar,' one complained, 'do you not see that the sun is long gone and the day is dark and the clouds are thick?' And Hiwcantar kicked up the dirt and stepped forth upon a rock and declared. 'Indeed the day is dark and the sun is out and the clouds are thick in the heavens, but walk with me but a while and have faith. And ere long ye shall see the clouds part and the moon shine on us with radiance. And the path shall be made clear.'
And so they gathered up their tents and their belongings and their spears - and they were heavy - and they walked in the dark. And Hiwcantar led them into the darkness. And the clouds only thickened and did not part, and the winds battered them and the gates of the heavens were cast open wide and the waters of the upper sea hailed down upon them as never before. 'We are undone! We are cursed! We have treaded a path into the darkness!' Rose the wail. And it was followed by screams of despair and surrender. 'GREAT Cantar! Protect us!' And seeing their despair, Hiwcantar was taken up in a passionate fury and stood before them in the wind and rain and he spoke with such fire and frenzy as to silence them and cast greater fear of him in their hearts than ever did the winds and rains and darkness. 'Woe unto you for ye are a feckless lot! Did ye think that ye shall be guided to the good place without first being tried? If you would come to the good place, then you would have patience - he shall not earn it of you who is not worthy of GREAT Cantar. If you are of him then let your step follow my step. And if you are not of him then turn ye back and return from where we first came, ne'er seek to approach us again - you are lost.' And so saying, he turned away and walked away with his family and sons and daughters. And then followed him his brothers and their families and their sons and their daughters. And then his uncles set their step firmly behind him, and then others. And his voice was and actions were as a flood that swept up the doubtful and the faithful alike.
So when dawn broke and the star of morning burst forth like a bloodied flower beyond the Sea of Souls, they found themselves at the southern bank of the River Tala. And seeing them, the people of the river let loose a cry of fear and scattered now here and now there, and some gathered sticks and staves and rallied forth against them. But the ap-Cantar were the masters here, and had been for many generations now. Those who fought did so only out of mad futility and despair, and their weak strikes were swept aside by warriors bred and raiders raised. And killing blows were struck and women caught and children thrown into the river. And some were kept, on the command of Hiwcantar. And he saw how these river people built small abodes - little things. And yet somehow he was struck with inspiration and he commanded that just such abodes - but on a greater scale as never before had graced the banks of the River Tala - should be built for the progeny of GREAT Cantar.
And it was so. And its name was whispered in fear and awe by all the river people, for they knew that it was there that the lord and master of all men dwelled. It was from there that Hiwcantar ruled.
'I pray thee then - Write me as one that loves his fellow men.'
Were I (who to my cost already am One of those strange, prodigious creatures, man)
And Hiwcantar, son of Hulcantar, son of Hancantar, son of GREAT Cantar, from whose loins are the ap-Cantar, whose numbers are as the stars DECREED that his great place of residence, built of the blackest mud from the bed of the River Tala, should forevermore be named TILATICANTAR
Type of Government: Tribal Chiefdom
Religion: Worship of GREAT Cantar, father of the ap-Cantar, whose searing blood flows through the veins of all his sons driving them to deeds of glory. That the ap-Cantar may join their father in the Sea of Souls, they must be worthy of him. The gods of all other people must be brought low, and the migty spear of GREAT Cantar be raised above all. May the eyes of the unworthy never know sleep! GREAT Cantar now dwells in the Sea of Souls, to which his physical manifestation was committed on its expiration, and to which the bodies of all worthy ap-Cantars are committed on death. On reaching the great kingdom of GREAT Cantar in the Sea of Souls, these worthy warriors join his glorious armies and fight the denizens of the Sea of Souls to further the extent and glory of ap-Cantar kingdom of the Sea of Souls. As for the unworthy - to the Great Yellow Scourge confine their burned remains!
Geographical Location: Straddling the north and south banks of the River Tala, with the Sea of Souls to the east and the Great Yellow Scourge to the south.
History: The ap-Cantar emerge into history when GREAT Cantar led his people out of the tyranny and custody of the Great Yellow Scourge. Today the ap-Cantar believe the Great Yellow Scourge to be the home of demons and tyrant gods who have sworn enmity against GREAT Cantar and his progeny for ever and aye. GREAT Cantar led his people to the fertile banks of the River Tala where they came upon a complacent people who did not know to fear the fury of the ap-Cantar - and they came to know, only too late, the price of that fury. Since the expiry of GREAT Cantar and his migration into the Sea of Souls to rule for aye and establish a great kingdom for his children, the ap-Cantar have continued a largely nomadic life, raiding the settled people on the River Tala. With the coming of Hiwcantar, however, the ap-Cantar have for the first time in their history built permanent homes of adobe at the great city of Tilaticantar.
Bn. Murchraed Whaeghliy of Cl. Sirjin; of Her Grace's Aeroflight Society, Requests Funding from the Glass Bank & Issues a General Call for Investment; Tymhoris 13, 1910 (Fri 14 Jan, 1910)
Sir --
It is my pleasure to make known to you that, following the Eighty Second Bi-Annual General Congregation of Her Grace's Aeroflight Society, it is our greatest satisfaction to make known publically and universally our desire to see such research & innovation done as would consequently result in the elevation and advancement of this pivotal field of scientific progression. Whereas there has heretofore existed such climate in the territories of the Ríghacd whereof I speak as was most certainly conducive to the civilian enjoyment of this developing area and procurement of such devices and items as could facilitate that enjoyment, it is our firmest conviction that the fields are ripe for sowing and the conditions are in all ways auspicious if only there were the commensurate regard for this opportune state of affairs by such parties as have the means and tools by which to begin the sowing.
Sir -- if it were your pleasure to apply of your influence and power whatever is required to secure for us such means, and the interest of those who possess such means, as would permit us the luxury of exploring and elevating this field at a greater level, then I and all those who are so priviliged as to associate themselves with Her Grace's Aeroflight Society should be forever grateful to you. Let it be known that, with a clear recognition of the nature of the establishment of which you are a governing member, we are under no illusion whatsoever that the means of which you should give us cause to avail ourselves will be reciprocated in full on the understanding that there shall be for your distinguished establishment a share of all such enlightenment and satiation of scientific curioisity as should be effected by our venture.
Her Grace's Aeroflight Society avails itself of this opportunity
to renew to the Faenarian Bank of Glass the assurances of its highest consideration,
and so, sir, I beg to remain Yours Aye an Iver,
MURCHRAED WHAEGHLIY of CL. SIRJIN of Her Grace's Aeroflight Society
Lord Zee
DracoLunaris
Frettzo
Cyclone
Vec
Torack
