Angayuk, Nukaq

By Marion Saunderson
Part 3

The sun had just set and Kahuane was getting restless again. The brothers had spent most of the last two days in their rooms. Only two trips out, to go to the Abbey to pray and those early in the morning when hardly a soul was about. All the inactivity was driving him mad.

The grief at his Uncle's death and his own horror of the life that awaited him at the Abbey needed physical action to relieve it. That was how he had always dealt with such things. A long ride on his horse, a hike through the forest, a session of sword practice. Tension washed away with the sweat. But here he was trapped in these two rooms with Donjet who had retreated to his books and would not even play the quanja stone game with him.

Maybe he could slip out, pretend he was going to the other room. A glance at Donjet; he was buried deep in some dusty tome. Kahuane picked up his jacket, holding it in front of him where Donjet might not notice it. Only four steps to the door.

"No, you can't go out. Sit down and read. You need to prepare for your entry to the Abbey."

Kahuane tossed the jacket on the bed. "Why can't I go out! Who will know?"

"I will. And you will. How can you do something so disrespectful of Uncle Kendi?"

"He wouldn't care!" but Kahuane threw himself in a chair and glared at this boot tops.

An hour passed and there was a tap at the door. Desperate for movement, Kahuane was at the door before Donjet could say anything. "Mosee!" It was his father's aide-de-camp.

"Lords," and Mosee stepped aside as the Margrave Pandalee Tatti Arivat of the Sanililaaq strode into the room, a man of middle height, dark hair splashed with grey, face lean and handsome.

"Papa!!" Kahuane thrust out his hands and had them clasped firmly between his father's hands in the familial greeting. Donjet was there behind him, extending his own hands. The Margrave and his heir stood in silent communication until the Margrave patted the young man's hands slightly.

Donjet steeled his back and spoke in as controlled a voice as he could manage. "Father, I am so glad you have come. Uncle Kendi, he...." but he could not say it.

"Where?" The Margrave understood, prepared to hear it, even unspoken as this was.

"In the Abbey, under it, where they say it is cold."

"You have not been there?"

"No. Only monks are allowed. They pray for him. As have we."

"Have someone send to the Abbot."

"Yes, Father but he will know you have arrived. And the Baron. What you told me, I have seen for myself." Donjet turned to Mosee. "Go down to the Innkeeper and ask that a messenger be sent up. And have them prepare a meal for us all. The best wine from the market. To be served here in this room. We will require a larger table."

"Lord," and Mosee left the room.

A small smile played on the Margrave's lips. "You have become accustomed to giving orders, my son."

"I am Arivat, sir."

"Hmm, beware. Do not let your pride rule you," but the tone was very satisfied.

The young men spent the evening recounting their journey, the battle in the woods and the events surrounding Kendi Arivat's illness and death. Donjet made sure his father was aware of the competent care and kindness of Makto the Healer and Guilio and the help of Johanus Smythe and the Innkeeper and his staff. He also described without assessing comment the visits of the Prior. The Margrave's eyes narrowed but he offered no comment. Finally, the Margrave was given the letter from the Baron and told how Donjet had responded.

"You have done well, my sons. And it is well done to acknowledge the help that others have given. They shall know our own appreciation. We shall remain here until we do honours to Kendi's body. Yes, both of you have conducted yourselves exactly as I would have wished." He rose and embraced them both. "Now, a long day. There is a room for me?"

"You could take this room, Father or ..." Kahuane looked uncomfortable.

"Or the one Kendi died in? I have nothing to fear from his spirit. I will use that room."

"It has been prepared." Donjet had not had to order anything. The Innkeeper had removed all the bedding and replaced the mattress. The young men accompanied their father to the other room where he embraced them again.

Back in their own room, Kahuane whispered, as if the walls had suddenly become thin, "Onjee, when do you think...will Papa still make me enter the Abbey?"

"Why do you think that would change?" Donjet paused in getting ready for bed.

"Well, Uncle Kendi died."

"Yes but all that means is that it will be Papa who will present us to the Baron and the Abbot. That is the only difference." Lifting the covers on his side, Donjet settled on the bed.

"But...don't you think we could ask him...?" Kahune slipped into the other side of the bed.

"Oh, Kahu, go to sleep. Be quiet and go to sleep."

"But..."

Donjet had had enough. "Shut up! For Gods' sake, shut up." And he rolled over.

Kahuane stared at the expanse of his brother's back and mumbled, "We should ask," before trying to sleep

After the morning meal, the Margrave received the Prior, come to escort the lord of Inukshuk to the Abbey and his deceased brother. The Margrave chose to walk when, as the ruler of a city state, he had the right to ride through the centre of Fiorenza. Dressed in simple dark tunic and trousers, he passed easily through the busy streets, the dignified grief of his face gaining him passage past the quietly respectful citizens of Fiorenza. At the Abbey door, the small procession was met by Abbot Maretus, his face solemn.

"Most honourable Margrave, we offer our condolences. If the prayers of humble monks may comfort, then be comforted."

"Lord Abbot, your prayers have given comfort."

A satisfied hmm from the Abbot. He led the Margrave and his sons and the other attendants who had arrived with the Margrave into the great hall of the Abbey where Kendi Arivat's body lay on a raised bier. Only for a moment as he first saw the pale face of his brother did the Margrave falter but he regained himself and strode forward. The Abbot himself led prayers. As the last chant echoed away, Abbot Maretus murmured. "The Gods hold him in their arms" and with that the Abbot and the monks withdrew, followed by the Margrave's attendants.

Pandalee stood silent, unmoving, staring into his brother's face. Donjet and Kahuane flanked their father. Kahuane had never seen his father's face express such pain, such overwhelming distress as at that moment. There were even tears in his eyes, beginning to course down his cheeks. Still he made no sound. Kahuane moved a step closer to his father and wondered what to do. Pandalee raised his hands and leaning slightly over the bier, cupped Kendi's face. A shiver at the feel of cold flesh. One hand brushed hair from his brother's forehead but strands caught in his fingers and came away.

"What?" in a shocked tone.

Donjet reassured, "The Healer said it was part of his illness, Papa."

"Give me a pocket cloth."

Donjet pulled out his and opened it. Carefully, Pandalee dislodged the hairs from between his fingers and lay them on the cloth.

"Keep that safe, Donjet."

The boy could only nod.

With a last caress of his brother's face, the Margrave stepped back and turned away. The boys followed him as he strode down the central aisle and through the doorway.

In the ante-chamber the Abbot, the Prior and several other senior monks waited with the Margrave's attendants. His face now composed, the Margrave spoke to the Abbot. "We wish to proceed with the final honours to Lord Kendi's body as soon as possible."

"Of course. What service can the Abbey provide? Say and it is yours."

"Among my people the body is cremated and the ashes gathered for joining with our ancestors. Is there facility here for that?"

"Yes, there is. A private place and a public one, both."

"Private. A matter for family."

"Would you permit a few of us to attend to pray with you?"

The Margrave was still and solemn for a long while and Kahuane was sure he would say no but at last the lord of Inukshuk inclined his head. With no further word he turned and left the Abbey. His aide-de-camp stayed to discuss the arrangements.

Smythe sat, brooding, watching the passing crowd. Some headed for the Abbey seeking the Gods' assistance, some returned mulling over whatever they had been told. Freud was right, he thought, though in ways that the psychoanalyst did not realize.

A movement to his left and Todo sat down with a sigh. "Long day. Longer for those who mourn."

"Hmmpt."

"You were successful? The ...revised report stored in his room?"

"Mmmm."

"You don't sound very pleased. Had the Arivat boys already been searching?"

"No, no!"

"The forgery discovered?"

"Of course not!" All this questioning was making him irritable.

"Has the box been given to the Prior?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Then what is wrong? The mission has been completed successfully, has it not?"

"Oh, most successfully." He could not keep the sarcasm from his voice.

Todo blinked at him and said softly, "But ..."

"But a man of intelligence and honour and humour and everything that is rare on any world has died when I could have saved him."

"You could? Then why ...?"

"I was not allowed to. I didn't even want to be ..." Startled by what he had said, had almost revealed in his own frustration, he froze in mid sentence. He was letting his emotions affect his discretion and now he was going to have to do some damage control with the very man who was his contact here. "I could not. That is all, I could not."

He could not admit that the Celestial Intervention Agency had prevented him from using all the facilities of his own TARDIS. They sent him here, gave the mission and then limited what he could do to achieve that mission. The death of Kendi Arivat even fit in with their goal so of course they would not let him save the man's life. That disgusting band of intergalactic manipulators! A puppet, he was just a blasted puppet!!!

"A puppet?" Todo was staring at him.

He had not realized he had spoken out loud. "Don't you sometimes feel like a puppet, pretending to know nothing much and unable to use all you do know to help your people? A puppet on strings?"

"Sometimes."

"How do you stand it? I'd go mad." Am going mad, he thought.

"I do whatever I can, however small, wherever and whenever I can, with whatever I can."

Smythe stared at Todo for a long minute and then grinned broadly. "You are a brilliant man. Brilliant. Look, I am going to need your help again." He leaned close and as he whispered to Todo, watched the Custodian's eyes grow wide.

The next morning Smythe was still in the dining room when Kahuane entered. He gestured for the young man to join him.

"I am glad to see you, sir. We will be going to the see the Baron this afternoon and then the Abbot. I don't know whether I'll be coming back to the Inn. I wanted to thank you for all your kindness."

A smile and "Tell me, have you or your brother spoken to your father about your futures, what you really want?"

Kahuane studied the table top. "No. Donjet refuses."

"What if someone else spoke on your behalf?"

Kahuane brightened and then subsided. "Who would that be...who would have that influence with Father? Uncle Kendi could have. Father listens ... listened to him but ..." He pushed at the mug of ale the servant had brought him, sloshing it slightly on the table.

A satisfied smile on Smythe's lips and a mumble of "Plan B."

"Excuse me, sir?"

He tapped Kahuane's arm. "Nothing. I shall say goodbye now, just in case we don't meet again ... but you never know. A pleasure to know you, Lord Kahuane of Inukshuk. Don't lose those dreams." Smythe rose and with an encouraging look at the young man, left the dining room

The Margrave was reading in his room. His thoughts kept wandering to the funeral service that had taken place two days previously. A small carved box resided among his packs and he had an intense desire to take it out, to touch it. He pushed that temptation away. He was being maudlin. There were other matters that needed to be dealt with now. His sons were in their own room and were to join him shortly to visit the Baron.

A tap at the door and his aide-de-camp rose to answer it. A tall ... person in fantastical garb and wearing the most bizarre hat the Margrave had ever seen bustled in, hands full of documents.

"No, you can't ... this is the quarters of..," his aide de camp protested as he tried to prevent the man's entry but failed.

"Yes, yes, I know, the very noble Cosimo di Medici, Prince of Romagna. He expects me, of course. I would not burst in without ...oh ...well," noticing the Margrave, "you're not he, are you? No." Pointing to the Margrave's face, "Where is that majestic nose, the bold forehead, the hair of fiery red? No, you are clearly not he at all! Yowwww!!!"

As the strange creature moved forward, he suddenly tripped over the endpost of the bed and all the papers he carried flew up and cascaded down all over the chest near the wall and the floor around it.

"Oh, dear, my charts and certificates and letters of authenticity!!!" The odd man went onto his knees snatching up the documents. The aide de camp, being well trained, helped pick up the documents while the Margrave stared, incredulous.

The papers were widely scattered and the man kept tsking and tutting about them. When it seemed they were all gathered, he leafed through them quickly and exclaimed, "Oh dear, there are several missing! Perhaps behind the chest?"

He stood back and let the aide de camp pull out the chest and check. Indeed there were four or five other documents there. The aide handed them over to the man.

"Oh, yes, yes ... oh wait, this is not mine." He handed a large, stiff envelop back.

When the Margrave saw the writing on the envelop, he leapt up and took it from the startled aide. The Margrave's face paled as he stared at the envelop.

The bizarrely dressed man moved toward the door, all the while mumbling apologies. The aide was polite but the door was firmly shut once the man was in the hallway.

The Margrave sat down again and ran his fingers over the writing on the outside of the envelop for a long time.

The time came for the visit to the Baron, came and went with no knock on the door. Kahuane stared at Donjet and Donjet shrugged.

"Should we ask?"

"Go ahead. Your idea."

"Perhaps there has been some problem ... there is some reason ..."

"Yes." Donjet's voice was colourless.

Kahuane began to pace, up and down and around in the small room.

After three minutes of watching his brother stalk like a mountain cat, Donjet grabbed his arm as he passed him yet again. "Sit down, will you?"

Kahuane pulled free. "I've done enough sitting. I can't sit any more."

"You're getting on my nerves. You look like you're going to explode. Stop it."

"No! Maybe I will explode."

"Sit down!"

"No! In a few hours you won't be able to order me around any more. You won't even be my brother any more!"

"What?!! How can you say that?!" Donjet leapt up and tugged on the front of Kahuane's tunic.

"It's true. I won't be your brother. I won't be Arivat! I'll just be a nameless discard among discards. For the rest of my life!!" He shoved Donjet away. "I hate you. You can live in the pious way you want out there," pointing out the window, "and have a family and ride and hunt and be Margrave after father. You'll have all that while I ROT in that Abbey!"

"And you, maybe you'll finally learn service in the Abbey. I have spent most of my life knowing I would be Margrave. Having to act as if I already was, in the way they wanted me to. Expected me to. Never being freed of that. You think that was enjoyable as I watched you ride off one more time to hunt in the forest? Think I loved every hour of study? Selfish pig! You deserve what you'll have to do now."

Kahuane's stinging reply was lost in the deep voice from the door way.

"What is this??!!" The Margrave stared at the red faced harridans who had been screaming at each other. There was only broody silence in reply. A deeper, deadlier tone. "I asked what was going on."

A sullen "nothing Father" from Donjet.

The Margrave pulled the door closed behind him. "Nothing, when I hear the screeching of animals from this room? Nothing when impossible words are being hurled back and forth in this room?"

Kahuane drew himself up, nearly as tall as his father. "Not impossible words. Just never spoken before." The tone was quiet and bitter.

Pandalee Arivat stood very still, his eyes staring into Kahuane's face.

With some effort the young man did not look away from his father's stare though the young man's face had grown pale as his anger receded to despair. He deeply regretted what he had said to Donjet but he could not take back the words.

At last, the Margrave turned to the door. "Be ready to leave. It is more than time to see the Baron."

A soft, "oh Gods," from Donjet as Kahuane winced at the coolness in his father's voice.

The journey to the Baron's Keep was made on horse back, all of them dressed in their court finery. They rode under the gate that guarded the bridge to Fior Island and trotted across the broad length of the bridge between two saluting lines of the Baron's guards. At the entrance to the Keep, they were met by the Baron astride his horse. The Margrave and the Baron clasped right arms and greeted each other warmly, in personal and political friendship.

When the boys were introduced and they had all walked up the steps into the great hall of the Keep, the Margrave told his sons to wait. He and the Baron strode into a smaller room for some private conversation. After nearly an hour, the door opened, the Margrave bid good day to his friend and to the boys' surprize, gestured for them both to leave with him.

Donjet was especially puzzled, searching what he had been told of squiring ceremonies to make sense of what was happening. There was nothing that he recalled that explained.

They all remounted and rode back across the bridge and all the way up the wide street to the market. The Baron's guards accompanied them, making way through the market crowds until they reached the other edge of the market. There the guards remained. A dozen monks waited there and walked along in front of the Margrave's retinue.

Donjet and Kahuane exchanged several worried glances and though they longed to ask what was happening, their father's iron-stiff back did not invite questions.

At the Abbey, a rank of monks stood waiting, the Prior at their centre. He escorted the Margrave's party into the Abbey's pillared hall and once again Donjet and Kahuane were left waiting while their father had private words with the Abbot.

The tension both felt was palpable. Kahuane knew they might not see each other again and he burned with shame at the angry words he had spoken. As quietly and as unobtrusively as possible, he sidled up to Donjet's side and whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"I know. Me either."

Both let out a long breath.

Donjet murmured, "I don't understand this I should have been left at the Keep."

"Well maybe they have to...oh I don't know."

They both jumped a little at the sharp crack when the door to the left opened and their father strode out of the room alone. As he approached his sons he waved at them to follow him. More puzzled stares but some relief as they hurried after him.

The ride back to the Inn was quick and the boys were happy to see that place again. Without a word to anyone, the Margrave ascended the stairs and went into his room. Since he did not close the door behind him, the boys followed. Their father was removing his ornate court jacket and gloves, handing them to Mosee.

Kahuane gestured at Donjet to be the one to ask. While Donjet was trying to decide how to frame his question, the Margrave spoke.

"We will dine in these rooms. See to it, Mosee." He glanced at the boys. "Sufficient time to change clothes and bathe if you wish." When his sons still stood before him, "Was there something else?"

Kahuane found his voice. "Father, we do not understand. At the Keep and the Abbey, we don't understand what happened."

The Margrave shrugged slightly. "Proposals were made and consideration is now underway." He picked up a book, read a bit and murmured almost too low to hear, "Time to pray for possibilities."

The next morning, messengers from the Keep and the Abbey arrived and the Margrave closeted with his aide conferring. Replies were sent. Then another exchange right after the mid-day meal. It was all very mysterious and Kahuane hated mysteries.

In a low voice, he asked Donjet, "What is going on?"

"I don't know! Sorry. More of the proposals, I suppose."

"Proposals about what?"

"About who...idiot, about us."

Kahuane saw no anger in Donjet's face and took no offence. "Why don't you ask Father what is going on."

"Why don't you?"

"You're the heir."

"Exactly. You could get away with it."

They stared at each other and then Kahuane agreed. "I'll ask but you be there, right with me."

"Of course. Let's go."

They tapped on their father's door. Mosee answered it. "Pardon, Lords but the Margrave is in conference." Over Mosee's shoulder they could see a nobleman in the Baron's colours and to his right, the Prior.

"Oh, pardon." And they backed away.

"Let's see if there's something to eat," Kahuane suggested and they retreated downstairs. The Master Giando was happy to serve them and they sat nibbling on sweetcakes in a corner of the main serving room, trying not to think about what was going on upstairs.

An hour later, Mosee came looking for them. "Lords, your father asks that you ready yourselves in court clothes."

Their eyes went wide and they moved slightly together before rising to obey.

Again they rode toward the market but they were greatly surprized to find all the shoppers and sellers and all the stalls gone. In the centre of the great square was a dais, steps on the side facing them. At ground level, the south side of the dais was ringed with the Baron's guards, the north side by monks. Two large chairs sat in the middle of the dais. In the left one was the Abbot and in the right one sat the Baron.

The edges of the square were alive with the citizens of Fiorenza, voices murmuring until the moment the Margrave and his sons arrived at the foot of the dais. Their horses were led away as the boys followed their father up the steps of the dais. But as they neared the top, they halted at the Margrave's gesture.

Mosee, resplendent in his court dress, stood close to his master. In a ringing voice, he called out, "The Margrave of Inukshuk greets the Baron deZors and the Abbot Maretus. He presents to you his son, Donjet Tatti Arivat." At his name, Donjet stepped up the last step onto the dais. "Heir to the House of Arivat and Second Noble to the people of Sanililaaq. Strong in body. Strong in faith. Come to learn the skills of a knight. Come to learn the wisdom of the Gods."

Both the Baron and the Abbot rose and Donjet went forward to be embraced by both men. He returned to stand by his father.

"The Margrave of Inukshuk presents to you his son, Kahuane Arivat." Kahuane stepped up as his brother had done, his heart pounding. "Third Noble to the people of Sanililaaq. Strong in body. Strong in faith." A slight waver in Mosee' voice. " Come to learn the wisdom of the Gods. Come to learn the skills of a knight. "

Kahuane was shaken by what these words seem to mean. Mosee had to hiss at him to walk forward to receive the embrace of the Baron and the Abbot. He felt numb and barely managed to keep his feet in a straight path.

As he reached his father's side, the Margrave spoke. "Lord Baron. Lord Abbot. Promises I made and promises I keep. I give you for training my sons in whom I am well pleased. Train them both in the skills of knighthood." A sharp intake of breath by Kahuane. "Train them both in the knowledge of the Gods. Send back to me two men with the skills of war and the wisdom of peace. In the memory of Kendi Arivat."

The Baron glanced at the Abbot who nodded. The Baron smiled and spoke loudly.

"Lord Margrave, in the name of the House of deZors, I accept the challenge you have given. With pleasure."

The Abbot spoke with less force but no less audibly. "Lord Margrave, in the name of Searching Heart Abbey, I accept the opportunity you have offered. With joy. Blessed be the memory of Kendi Arivat."

Then, as the crowds around the square murmured their surprize and pleasure, the two boys embraced their father and each other.

"Oh, Papa, thank you."

"Thank me, my sons, when you complete what will be a very demanding regimen."

"What about your promise to the Abbot?" Kahuane asked.

"All has been satisfied, Kahu. Now it is up to you to meet that promise."

"Yes, Father."

On the far side of the square, Doctor Johanus Smythe stood with Todo the Custodian, both of them smiling.

"So," Todo said, "the forged letter worked."

Smythe leaned close to Todo's ear. "That was no forgery. I found it stuck in the back of the journal. Kendi Arivat wrote so eloquently to his brother that anything I could have done would have fallen far short."

"Ah. Hmm. And the Margrave, an impressive negotiator, is he not? Managing to get those two to co-operate, to agree to train those boys jointly. I will be honest and say I did not think it could be done."

"As you say, impressive. A shame this world does not have space travel. The Margrave's skills would be most useful in mediating disputes on other worlds."

"A shame he had not been recruited by the Custodians, but there we are. I am pleased nonetheless. And you?"

He smiled at Todo. "A small action has produced most satisfactory results. Not quite what I was aiming for but satisfactory." And under the noses of the CIA and that pleased him even more.

On the dais, the Baron turned to the Abbot and bowing his head, murmured for the Abbot's ears only, "Compromise can be mutually satisfactory, Mar."

"Yes, brother, now and then." The Abbot bowed his head and turned back toward the Margrave and his sons. His smile did not reach his eyes.

Finis

End Notes

In the midst of writing this story, I took a business trip to Yellowknife in the Northwest Territories of Canada. The wonderful euphonious names I heard for people and places inspired me to use Innuit and Dene names in my story. The Innuit and Dene are the two major First Peoples of the Canadian far north, the Innuit largely in the east Arctic and the Dene in the west.

The title of this story is the English transliteration of Inuktituk, the language of the Innuit, for 'older brother' and 'younger brother'. Here is how the words are pronounced. Notice the difference between the simple word for brother and the more complicated words when you add the concept of birth sequence. As far as I am aware, all syllables are given equal emphasis.

brother : anik (an/neek)

younger brother : nukaq (no/ka)

older brother : angayuk (a/gaa/yook)

Thanks to Rhoda Kayakjuak for the translations.

Go to http://www.arctic.ca/LUS/Inuktitut.html to hear some Inuktituk spoken and sung.

Note that Inuktituk is an unwritten language. Missionaries in the last century created an alphabet to record the language. Go to http://halfmoon.org/inuit.html to see the script.

The names of the boys, their father (though not his title), uncle and servants are all Innuit or Dene names.

The home city-state of the boys in my story, Inukshuk, is Inuktituk for 'like a person', a rough stone sculpture or construct representing a person or spirit, intended as a marker or guide. A picture of such a sculpture may be found at http://www.millennium.gc.ca/inukshuk_e.html.

A central principle of Innuit philosophy is isuma, the intelligence that knows the responsibility to society each person bears. In the environment of the north, people must work as a team to survive and not infrequently, that means putting aside your own desires and needs for the good of all, for service to all.

Community is family, family is community. To live in a community is to be a part of an extended family. If Innuit children are orphaned, someone will adopt them not in the formal southern way but as part of the customs of the society. That someone may or may not be biologically related to the children.

Note that for a resident of the Northwest Territories, the Yukon Territory and the new Territory of Nunavut, the south starts at the 60th parallel. As Albert Einstein said, it's all relative.