to prevent a possible attack on their walls.
“ Protection isn’t cheap,” Franz said as they entered the courtroom. “We give them water in exchange for a token amount of resources from other parts of the world, but what we really buy ourselves is security.” He walked to the judge’s bench and continued explaining the underhanded deals more to himself than to Ghora, who knew exactly what was going on.
He explained: The Ujimati were rumored to be on an eternal quest searching for “Blue Gold,” also known as a never-ending source of water. A vast ocean thousands of miles across was rumored to exist just below the surface of the earth. The trick was to find out where it could be accessed, and then the water could be excavated, and used as a source of great power and influence. They could make the Inner-Crescent hostage to the resource if they had enough of it, and hold a monopoly over a large enough supply. As far as the secret annual dealings were concerned, they struck so much fear in the heart of any man, and their demands were so little, it only made sense to appease them. A few thousand gallons of water—funneled off the allowance for Morgan’s Orchard—bought a year of guaranteed peace. Since this had been an underhanded dealing since the beginning, no one could say how long Noremway Parish had been making this same deal with the local caravans, but Franz was sure it’d been going on for centuries, and would continue for centuries more.
“ Are you done?” the chancellor asked when Franz stopped talking.
“ I find it so fascinating. I might write a book one day. The History of Noremway Parish from Ragas to Phoenix . Nice ring, don’t you think?”
“ Interesting. Franz Phoenix, a scholar.”
“ There’s a lot more up here than you give me credit for, Ghora,” the sheriff said, pointing to his head and laughing. The laugh echoed throughout the chamber, sending a chill down Urey’s spine. The chancellor thought a laugh like that only came from someone planning something wicked.
Suddenly a man stepped out of the dark and said, “Let’s get this started.”
Chapter 7
The Ujimati had travelled these lands for centuries unknown. Grains of sand stretched in every direction. The air was dry as the dust of crushed bone in a death pit. Despite the dark rain-filled clouds overhead, these lands would remain barren forever. As Garish eyed the great wall surrounding Noremway Parish, he debated the best way of entry. The large concrete blocks composing the wall showed no sign of crumbling, so breaking through was not an option, and they were too high to scale. This was his first time coming to Noremway Parish. He knew that the men who’d come before him to collect water had entered in some way. Yar, look to the south, Massa had said when they sent Garish on his way. He brought two large wagons with him, each pulled by a pair of camels. Each of these wagons carried large containers capable of storing many gallons of water.
Be wary, young sa, Massa had said. They of the parish fear us, so they do. And I’d be a barren wolf if I wasn’t proud to say it. Keep ‘em scared. Keep them scared aplenty, I say.
Yar. Understood, Massa, he said and left. He wore the necklace of his ancestors containing fifteen shrunken heads. These were not heads of his family as those in Noremway Parish told each other. If Garish had known such a story he would have laughed until his stomach split. No, around his neck he wore the shrunken heads of their fallen comrades in that long ago battle that saw the defeat of the Outer-Crescent. He remembered that day clearly because he had been there. They talked about it amongst themselves: Oh, to be human again. Such a wonderment ‘twould be. Yar, so it would.
But to all outward appearances (besides maybe their sharpened teeth), they looked human. They still carried with them the dialect of the Outer-Crescent even though it had fallen 2,000 years ago.
Garish’s teeth—recently
“ Protection isn’t cheap,” Franz said as they entered the courtroom. “We give them water in exchange for a token amount of resources from other parts of the world, but what we really buy ourselves is security.” He walked to the judge’s bench and continued explaining the underhanded deals more to himself than to Ghora, who knew exactly what was going on.
He explained: The Ujimati were rumored to be on an eternal quest searching for “Blue Gold,” also known as a never-ending source of water. A vast ocean thousands of miles across was rumored to exist just below the surface of the earth. The trick was to find out where it could be accessed, and then the water could be excavated, and used as a source of great power and influence. They could make the Inner-Crescent hostage to the resource if they had enough of it, and hold a monopoly over a large enough supply. As far as the secret annual dealings were concerned, they struck so much fear in the heart of any man, and their demands were so little, it only made sense to appease them. A few thousand gallons of water—funneled off the allowance for Morgan’s Orchard—bought a year of guaranteed peace. Since this had been an underhanded dealing since the beginning, no one could say how long Noremway Parish had been making this same deal with the local caravans, but Franz was sure it’d been going on for centuries, and would continue for centuries more.
“ Are you done?” the chancellor asked when Franz stopped talking.
“ I find it so fascinating. I might write a book one day. The History of Noremway Parish from Ragas to Phoenix . Nice ring, don’t you think?”
“ Interesting. Franz Phoenix, a scholar.”
“ There’s a lot more up here than you give me credit for, Ghora,” the sheriff said, pointing to his head and laughing. The laugh echoed throughout the chamber, sending a chill down Urey’s spine. The chancellor thought a laugh like that only came from someone planning something wicked.
Suddenly a man stepped out of the dark and said, “Let’s get this started.”
Chapter 7
The Ujimati had travelled these lands for centuries unknown. Grains of sand stretched in every direction. The air was dry as the dust of crushed bone in a death pit. Despite the dark rain-filled clouds overhead, these lands would remain barren forever. As Garish eyed the great wall surrounding Noremway Parish, he debated the best way of entry. The large concrete blocks composing the wall showed no sign of crumbling, so breaking through was not an option, and they were too high to scale. This was his first time coming to Noremway Parish. He knew that the men who’d come before him to collect water had entered in some way. Yar, look to the south, Massa had said when they sent Garish on his way. He brought two large wagons with him, each pulled by a pair of camels. Each of these wagons carried large containers capable of storing many gallons of water.
Be wary, young sa, Massa had said. They of the parish fear us, so they do. And I’d be a barren wolf if I wasn’t proud to say it. Keep ‘em scared. Keep them scared aplenty, I say.
Yar. Understood, Massa, he said and left. He wore the necklace of his ancestors containing fifteen shrunken heads. These were not heads of his family as those in Noremway Parish told each other. If Garish had known such a story he would have laughed until his stomach split. No, around his neck he wore the shrunken heads of their fallen comrades in that long ago battle that saw the defeat of the Outer-Crescent. He remembered that day clearly because he had been there. They talked about it amongst themselves: Oh, to be human again. Such a wonderment ‘twould be. Yar, so it would.
But to all outward appearances (besides maybe their sharpened teeth), they looked human. They still carried with them the dialect of the Outer-Crescent even though it had fallen 2,000 years ago.
Garish’s teeth—recently
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