Chronicles of Akhani - 20 - Intercession
The scorching sun beat down upon Zhorovna and Kodomi as they tended to the mules. The work was hard, and felt hardly rewarding. Cutting one more cord, the straw fell, then oozed with tar. The sense of exasperation hung in the air as Kodomi eyed the last two bails under the shelter.
“That’s the last of it,” Kodomi said shaking her head. “If Iosodoros doesn’t return with hay, I am not sure if our animals will have enough to eat.”
“What about the vast grasslands? Why aren’t you just letting them graze?” asked Zhorovna.
Kodomi gave a warm smile to her young friend then proceeded, “We tried that before, but learned our lesson. Our animals are not native to this region and many of the local flora is mildly toxic to them. There are seasons where we can set our animals out to pasture without worry, but proceeding the mist season is not such a time. In another month or two, foraging will become an option, but not until then.”
“My people have always herded the species of deer. Why haven’t your people tried to capitalize on the native fauna instead of relying on animals who struggle to survive?”
“Because,” Kodomi paused then raising, her nose just a little, continued, “we are Doiketians. We do things our way; not the easy way.”
Both women laughed and proceeded to walk to get the last two bails of hay. Suddenly a thought flashed over Zhorovna. She turned her head to Kodomi as they walked.
“Do you think it’s about time I check on Akhani in the cellar? We’ve been out here for several hours now. Surely he’s awake.”
Both women stopped, and a serious look crossed over Kodomi’s face as she spoke. “It would be best if I come with you.”
Zhorovna looked inquisitively over at her friend who still grasped a pitchfork in her hands. There was a stark contrast between the two women. Young, innocent Zhorovna bore the expression of concern for her friend. Old, wise Kodomi’s expression was also of concern, and its subject was the same, but the nature of concern was quite different. Kodomi knew that if Zhorovna’s stories were true, they would be no match for Akhani.
As they entered the barn from the back, they noticed that the exterior door from the stall was open. Panic set in. Zhorovna sprinted to the main room in which the cellar door was located. Finding the door flung open, she jumped down to the cellar.
“He’s gone!” Zhorovna screamed as she looked around the now empty cellar.
Zhorovna collapsed in sheer devastation as Kodomi slowly climbed down the ladder. Kodomi calmly knelt before her despairing friend, and placed her hand on Zhorovna’s shoulder. Zhorovna’s bloodshot, pleading eyes met Kodomi’s consoling expression.
After catching her breath between the heaving sobs, Zhorovna asked,“What should we do?” The distress in Zhorovna’s voice was so thick that the words barely escaped her mouth.
Kodomi gave a sigh and wrapped her arms around Zhorovna. Slumping down onto Kodomi’s shoulder, Zhorovna wept tears as she had never done before. A flood of new, unusual emotions broke through the dam. Never in her life had Zhorovna felt so powerless, so lost, so alone, and, heaviest of all, so rejected.
“Akhani is a strong, good boy. He will come around,” Kodomi comforted as her hand gently made circles in the middle of Zhorovna’s back. “Listen, let the tears out. Let it all flow. You cannot let him see you like this. Once he returns, you must be strong.”
Zhorovna sniffled, then made a deep sigh. Pulling back she nodded as she wiped the tears from her eyes. The look of pure innocence spread across her face as she asked, “Do you really think he’s coming back?”
With a soft smile, Kodomi replied, “I am certain of it. He will be back soon enough.” Straightening up a bit and putting on the air of a mother, she continued, “and then we will teach him a lesson for running away like that.”
Zhorovna smiled, cheeks still glistening from tears. She sat and let her dress fall around her, hiding her crossed legs. The troubled look in her eyes slowly turned into a glint of mischief. Zhorovna began to giggle at the thought, and Kodomi burst into a chortle.
–
“Do you need anything else?” Kodomi asked.
Zhorovna looked over the altar that she and Kodomi had restored. To Zhorovna’s amazement, the altar had largely survived since the days of the Ovorganti. Time, of course, had taken its toll upon the altar, but some faint markings could still be found in the large hewn stone. The markings lead Zhorovna to believe that many sacrifices were made upon this altar for centuries, and the gods, though their influence had dwindled, had saved the altar from all harm.
Satisfied that the altar did not need any further restoration than the clearing of weeds, Zhorovna gestured for Kodomi to bring the mule. Relunctantly, but ultimately obediently, Kodomi brought the mule by the reigns had had it get up on top of the stone. Carefully, she bound its legs and comforted its head as she locked eyes with Zhorovna. Zhorovna nodded and began the prayers.
The sharp blade made quick work of the animal’s neck. Blood immediately rushed out into the bowl below as Kodomi struggled to pin the writhing animal. Gurgles came from the animal’s throat as Kodomi kept the head tilted back so as to keep the wound open. Tears welled up in both women’s eyes as the animal, at least, relaxed and lay motionless upon the altar.
Tears streamed down Zhorovna’s cheeks as she lifted the lit torch and began, “O Fathers, the givers of life, who sustain all of Amythro, cleanse us from wickedness. We have sinned against you, O Fathers. We have sinned against all of creation and against ourselves. We beg, we pray, we humbly kneel down before you, asking for salvation from corruption.”
Zhorovna lit the wood and continued, “Return, Oh Fathers, to us who have strayed. Forgive, Oh Fathers, us who have strode against you. Give strength, Oh Fathers for us to obey.”
Kodomi made her way from behind the altar to join with Zhorovna. Gestures to kneel were made by Zhorovna, and both fell to their knees.
“Intercede for us, Oh Olvgani the Pious. Hear our words the greatest prophet of our age. We beg that you intercede, not just for us, but for Akhani who has given in to evil ways. For intercession to draw him back to us. For your words are heard, Oh Great Olvgani,” Zhorovna stopped as a bright flash spread throughout the land.
Before them, behind the altar, Kodomi and Zhorovna witness Olvgani touch the sacrifice with his staff, which instantly consumed the offering to ashes. His eyes raised and looked at Zhorovna with a nod.
“You have done well, young prophetess. Your prayers have risen like sweet incense to the Gods, and have pleased them. They have granted a Word be heard by him, and he has stopped on his quest to join the Evil One who has entered your realm. Beware, he is still under their spell. Being wise beyond your years, you will know what to do.
“I will leave with one last command: Do not enter the desert sands. They have become corrupted beyond measure. Should Akhani dwell therein, a corruption far worse will befall him. For cast out spirits return ten times as strong if they are allowed. Cast out the spirits, but find your battle outside of their stronghold in the desert.” And with those words of warning, Olvgani dissolved into the white smoke of incense. The air was filled with the scent of frankincense and myrrh.
Kodomi, bewildered by what had just happened, turned to Zhorovna and timidly asked, “What do we do now?”
Tears were still streaming down Zhorovna’s face as she stared intently at the altar and replied, “We wait.”
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