Rebels of Vulvar (Vulvarian Saga Book 2), стр. 5
The mission given me by the Goddess Queens was simple, at least in their estimation. I was to travel to Nisa, join Cooke’s rebels, and infiltrate their organization. When the opportunity presented itself, I was to capture Russell Cooke, self-proclaimed Dabar of Nisa, and then turn him over to the warriors of Thiva. While the plan sounded simple enough on the surface, I expected the actual execution of it would prove far more complicated, not to mention dangerous.
At the essence of the plan was that I was a male. The Goddess Queens knew Cooke would not expect the Vulvarians to send a male against him. He had long been on Vulvar and understood the culture. No male was free on the world ruled by females and where they kept all males as slaves. If I could gain Cooke’s trust, the Goddess Queens believed I’d find an opportunity to get him alone and take him prisoner. The fact we were both of Earth, the deities believed, would facilitate the development of the trust. Though I viewed the plan as far from immune to failure, I was committed to trying to accomplish it to save Idril. Phaerl had told me the spies inside Nisa had revealed Cooke intended to execute all the captured warriors of Thiva he held prisoner before his forces moved against that city.
Standing with the sun of Vulvar upon me, I raised my arms in the traditional Vulvarian gesture used to acknowledge the divinity of the Goddess Queens, those mysterious denizens of Mount Voln. They had once again brought me from Earth to their world. I felt no affection or respect for those heartless beings, whoever or whatever they might be. It was they who had removed me from Vulvar when they had finished with me, and who had taken my mother, my friends, and the woman I loved, the scarlet-haired beautiful Idril, from me. But now there was gratitude in my heart to them.
I well knew the strange deities had not returned me to Vulvar out of any spontaneous gesture of benevolence, or any interest in giving me long-delayed justice. Yet the Goddess Queens had allowed me the opportunity to seek once more the woman I loved. For that, I was grateful, though I knew they were again using me as one might use a pawn in a game of chess. When the pawn had fulfilled its role, the players might discard it, or perhaps, in my case, remove me from the board until it pleased the Goddess Queens to play another game.
On the ground, a few feet from me, I noticed a folded tan tunic, belt, and a worn pair of sandals. On Vulvar, the tan colored garment signified a house slave. I knelt and picked up the tunic. Standing up, I slipped it on over my head. I then retrieved the woven belt of the same color from beside the sandals and belted the simple garment. After slipping on the footwear, I wore once again the usual garb of a Vulvarian slave.
I had hoped to find a weapon left at my disposal. But there was no sword or bow. Neither was there any food or a water flask. For that reason alone, I hoped that Nisa was close by, though I saw no sign of it the direction I knew I must walk.
Knowing Nisa lay southwest of the distant mountains, I walked across the field in the direction of the city. Despite the danger I expected to face, my heart was light, and my step determined. I was back where my love waited for me, where I’d met my mother after more than thirty years of separation, where I had met and learned much from my old friend, Amanuensis, my former teacher. I had returned to Vulvar. I was home.
5
Haela
I had walked overland for some hours toward Nisa when I came upon a paved road, or viae as they say it in Vulvarian, to the city. The builders had constructed the road like most Vulvarian roads. After excavating a roadbed, the builders fill the trench with rubble, gravel, or broken stone. Over the rubble, they lay in a stretcher pattern tightly fitted cut square pavers. They finish with kerb stones put along the sides to hold in the pavers and to make a channel for water to run off. The chief aim of those who build the roads is that they not require frequent repair. It is said that they design Vulvarian roads to last for two hundred Vulvarian years or more.
The builders aim for directional straightness, keeping curves to a minimum. This emphasis often results in steep grades. The builders divide the roads into numbered legas with legastones. One lega is one-thousand paces, which amounts to about 1,480 meters. A legastone is a circular column on a solid rectangular base. At the base, the road builders inscribe the number of the lega relative to the distance to the town or city the road leads.
It was late afternoon. Judging by the legastones, I was still some hours from Nisa. I assumed the Goddess Queens had left me a far distance from the city so that their ship’s landing went unobserved. I wondered if it was practical to continue my journey. The sun would soon set. I assumed the Vulvarian night was not without its dangers for an unarmed slave traveling alone.
Having not so much as a blanket, I dreaded spending the night in the open. Vulvarian nights are often cold. I also lacked food and water. Now that I was thinking of discontinuing my journey,