Chapter 25: Dancing along the Path of the World

Reads: 181

“Keep it higher,” Jimbe repeats.

I hold the tongue of the cart up to my chest, his waist.

“It’s no good letting it down,” he says. “Need to keep it straight or you’ll wear yourself out.”

“Yes, sir,” I say.

I don’t look back, but I’ve gotten good at hearing the crunch-crunch-crunch of Lianth’s footfall behind the cart. It’s been a while since he’d called us out to keep us moving.

Sabill skips gayly to the side of the Path of the World, singing and humming a nonsense song. For a while, she walks in front, on the path, waving a stick with a green ribbon tied to the end over her head and all around. Sometimes she twirls around, shards of shell of the roadbed flying.

She does not trudge along, like Jimbe and me.

Then Sabill turns and calls out, “Father, do you see them?”

“I see them,” Lianth calls out. “Just keep moving, carters. We’ll see what we see soon enough.”

Sabill dances off the path and I see clearly what she sees - People of the Square - three of them. They walk the same direction as us, but in their funny bouncy way. We will overtake them by and by.

“Can we not walk slower?” I ask, turning to Jimbe on my strong side, but meaning for the bone merchant to hear me.

Lianth ignores me, but Jimbe answers.

“You’ll tire yourself the same, Bessil, and for not as much progress.”

He is panting less than I am, but he sweats at the exertion.

As we get closer, I see the cords that pull up and let down the people’s arms and legs. I yearn to ask them how they came to this. Were they born of the Square? Is there a village of the Square? Who pulls on those strings?

For the cords end, in the air, about ten ulls up. They attach to nothing I can see.

As we approach within a couple dozen ull, the man (for there are two women, I can see now, and one man) turns around to look at us. I see the black square in his forehead and I wonder even at this. Is it a tattoo? Many of the people at Laketown have tattoos and many sailors do, so I’d seen enough in my life.

Or is the Square of the people a natural mark?

The man doesn’t stop walking when he turns to look at us. The cords continue to lift his hands and feet in the imitation of walking and his feet barely touch the path, but he keeps walking backward.

Finally, he turns around and puts his hand on the shoulder of one of his companions. The women have their heads covered, one with a scarf, the other with a floppy hat. Both turn to look at us and I get a good look at their faces. They have smooth skin, healthy brown. I wonder if they oil their skin like Sabra back in Lake Town.

There are no cords on the faces of the People of the Square. I can’t imagine how such a thing would look. When one speaks - or smiles - I would learn, she takes her jaw in hand, as these women do now.

Both women smile at me. I’m sure it is me that they smile at, not Jimbe, nor Lianth, nor Sabill.

Finally, at a gesture from one of the women - the woman in the hat - the three of them rise up, off the path, and hover there, a few ulls above our heads.

Funny. I would learn that the woman in the scarf is their head woman, not her sister, but I recall clearly that the woman in the hat made that gesture.

“Pass, friends,” the woman in the scarf calls out, opening and closing her mouth for each sound. “Happy in the Light!”

“Happy in the Light!” I call out, around my huffing.

The others in our party murmur the same and we trudge along under the People of the Square.

After we make our way in front of the People of the Square for a time, we pass a traveler’s cistern and Sabill brings us water, but Lianth refuses to call a rest. I gulp the water down while we keep moving.

“Don’t spill so much,” Jimbe says. “I’m thirsty, too.”

“I’ll bring more,” Sabill promises, taking the mug back from me. She darts off, back to the cistern, which we are just passing. True to her word, she brings another mug of water, darting around in front of us to the strong side of the cart, where Jimbe pulls.

“Thanks,” he says around huffing breath.

Lianth is determined to push on until we reach the path uphill to Talcutt.

My lot changes when I return from delivering Aunty. The peddler is gone and the Bone Merchant Lianth holds my token. A section of radius, it has the symbol for my name, the symbol for my mother’s, and the symbol for the world.

It does not have the symbol for the peddler’s name, Elias.

“One of my carters wants to leave and go back to his family. You’re to fill in for him until we reach Rocut.”

“Rocut, sir?” I ask.

“Is that not your home?” he asks.

Lianth speaks to me in kindly ways, not like the peddler. Here, he doesn’t call me stupid or pesca. He simply asks.

“Bocut, sir,” I admit, as if being caught in a lie.

“No matter,” says Lianth. “I’ve a man in Rocut to hire. If he’s available, he’ll join us then and you can walk with us to the path to Bocut.”

“But, sir,” I say. “I was to be apprenticed to the peddler. My parents both have trades.” I’m careful not to say more, for Jimbe is right there with us and I don’t want to disparage him as not having a trade.

“It will not be as a peddler,” Lianth says. “Elias says you haven’t that knack and can’t read or cipher to boot.”

“But how am I to learn-”

“Bessil,” Lianth says. “Do you see any bones here about?”

“In your cart, sir, there are bones,” I answer, thinking myself clever, but I am not wrong.

“And those are the only ones to buy or sell around here. All the time that I am on the Path of the World is time that I cannot trade. Learn the words when we rest. Now, learn to pull.”

So I pull.

It’s a different burden than carrying a basket. Jimbe keeps me sharp, for he must pull what I cannot. He’s mostly kind to me, but he and Lianth both mean to move.

Submitted: July 23, 2023

Fantasy sprite goblins bones