FROM A STARLIT SHORE a novel

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From A Starlit Shore (Excerpt)

AND NOW HONK HONK and the others found themselves at the very Gates of the Games! It had been a bit of a push, getting one or two of them to hurry along, with so many interesting attractions along the way, but they were now at the Gates of the Arena, two kilometers away from the city and town of Sil, and the children gazed in awe at the grounds that lay before them – from the vast, deep amphitheater holding thousands, to the deep pool that lay off to the let, where rowing and swimming competitions occurred, Or maybe the wide track that ran in a circle roundabout the arena, with guards at the entry points to assure no spectators could interfere by accidentally walking out into it while a race was being run. Banners flew from poles at precise thirty meter lengths. On the stone seats of the amphitheater, workers had spent the day laying programs for the events, so that the seats were covered each in large white paper. On the seats of the well to do VIP section, these workers had also each lain a rose, as a memento they might cherish later for years on a dusty mantelpiece.

Tomorrow was the Day of the Game Song Sing. At the occasion, groups of men and women from the different provinces all grouped together at the start of the ceremony, and sang the Anthem to Tudops, the Anthem to Palacha, and the Anthem to Corocovo, now in his twelfth year or ruling. Of course, it was yet unknown whether or not the King might actually appear at the Games this year or not, being out of his league in the matter of his boudoir and Lady, but yet it would be certain that those charged with upholding the traditions of the games- the Sponsors, the Maintainers of the Arena, the Boroughmeisters of Sil- all these forces worked in concert so that when the King would decide whether he came or not all things would be under control and proceeding to plan with or without him.

All round the Arena nestled in little niches were statues of past celebrated champions -of decades past- and representations of various sports that took place therein. Huge torches blazed from cornices in the arena’s pavilion stands, and at the time of the Song, their would be groups of athletes chosen to represent, gathered in the Pit of the Arena, all hoisting their respective banners, and singing the Praises of their benefactors- Sun, Nation, and King.

The children were not as anonymous as they had been left to feel however- for the news of the missing children had traveled to Sil at the time of Orodam’s departure, and there were a crew of town dignitaries assembled not far from where the kids found themselves. The leader of this bunch, one Glanza, approached Honk Honk with three of his men. The staffs they carried were imposing, as were the men’s gruff appearance and clothing. Obviously they had been targonid hunters at one point in their lives, thought Honk Honk. But if I get a chance, I’ll show them I am just as tough and fierce!

“Ho there! You must be the Ransomed Ones! We are here for your behalf! As members of the town council of Sil, we have made all accommodations for you! You will not need sleep in the fields this evening, nor any other as long as the Games are on! Won’t you come with us? We have a celebration planned for you at our favorite tavern!”

Honk Honk didn’t speak. He looked at the others. It would be just as well with him if the girls went with this offer, but he and Rlok and Matim and Jonc better be left out of this! He had big plans- of the chickens he could steal, of the apple orchard he knew would be just ripe enough at this time, and the idea of sleeping in some house in a bed at a time like this- what sort of adventure was that?

Yoni made her way through the throngs of the streets of Sil. Everywhere preparations had been made, and people were in the process of both welcoming the tourists like herself, or putting the finishing touches to the town’s decorations. Coming here as a single woman, she would not be looked upon in any ways different from so many of the others who came, although there was no need in her life for partnering, nor parenting. And so there would be little reason for her to be involved in so many of the different games that went on with the women of Palacha behind the scenes, at the Games. She had no rivals, no others who were obvious competitors to take the one man she had set her mark on.

Although when she left that morning she barely thought it, by the time she had made her acquaintance of her taverner for the night, she had put her mind on the Duron she had known as a younger nymph. Back when there was little to wonder about about anything other than, how was that man built, beneath his toga? All the same, it would be only a matter of time before she would run into him somewhere here in Sil or the Arena, and she made herself comfortable in her room going through the various spots around where it might be that she eventually did.

Duron had been twenty two and as the bulkiest and strongest man of his cohort, the Farmland Champions of so many years past, and Yoni had been two years his junior but speedy and primed for marathons. The attraction had been mutual, and so had the parting. Or so she had thought. On the morning of the Games Song Sing, however, he was nowhere near.

Duron had begged off from Craald about getting themselves a Sil slut to share like they had the other night, and booked himself into a small room near the great Ovens of the Games, where the targonids were roasted, and all manner of food for the thousands of spectators primarily prepared. At least, that which came on the public dime, that of King Corocovo. He settled into his own dreamless pillow, thinking only of how the next day he would have to go to the King and report on the episode of the children. The children were free, but safe? He laughed. When he was young he had runaway to the games himself, only two years before he had met that … usbanler Yoni. He didn’t think about her but how he had won at darts and made his way back up to champion and in such a position that he was in effect, one of the King’s most trusted outriders. And what sort of things could he say to his liege?

Yes, the children were safe, but no, we did not catch the rapscallions? For now he knew Corocovo could only put a bounty on the heads of both Congulula and Llnash – a bounty which would likely be sneered at by the peoples of Loronam, but no less, bound to gain the interests of the King’s loyal subjects.

Loronam itself, originally an outpost of explorers to the west of the great dividing range of Gwala, located at the side of a river which flowed from springs high up, home to all manner of outcasts from Palacha, those who had either neglected to join in the Ondinian revolt, but only moved over the hills, or those who came there, like Congulula and Llnash, as fugitives- a center of anarchy in the King’s mind, a haven for a free marketer and profiteer on another’s.

Duron then had to rise early, and make a round trip journey from Sil to Palachina and back, in the company of the King when he returned. For the King not to be present at the Day of Song Sing would be a blasphemy of a kind, and Duron was, at least in his own mind, pretty sure that it would be a priority of King Corocovo himself to want to be ready to ride to Sil when he came to furnish his report.

So sighing wearily from his bed, he took to the small kitchen that lay on the first floor of the inn, next to the bar. Here, he made himself a breakfast of targonid rump and gorgoz, and so feeling heartily prepared, he began the long ride back, taking care to feed and water his horse Blue Willow before leaving.

He found the King just as he would have expected- all the palace guard and courtiers arranged ‘round a King ‘dressed to kill’ for the great ceremony of the Games Song Sing was the most regal presentation of his Majesty conceivable to the average Ztamian peasant. Duron could have laughed out loud at the number of small children from the Farmlands who also had come to gather at the feet of the King’s throne, for some of them were the sons and daughters of men he knew and had oft rode and plowed with. The gang of children laughed cackled burbled and made various eruptive noises as Duron bowed to the King.

“Your Majesty, I report to you- the children are safe, they are free from the kidnappers. But they themselves- we were unable to apprehend. It’s our feeling they rode east to Loronam, and if we wanted to, we could go after them there...”

“But I see no point in that at the moment, Duron. We have these other matters to attend to. And you say they are safe? What of the parents?”

“The parents paid the ransom, and they are in attendance at Sil. Where, I have my expectations, we are soon about to return?”

“Yes, Yes, yes“ mumbled Corocovo. “We’ll get on soon enough. Meanwhile, look what we have here!”

He nodded with a light point off to his side at the children huddled and sitting Indian-style around him.

“These little sprats are off to the games as well. It’s my hope we shall bring them with us, with the other children at the Games? Perhaps some accommodations can be made for them all.”

Beaming generously, Corocovo laughed and took up his royal staff and thumped it three times on the floor.

“We ride, we ride to the Games! And we will bring along this little throng, and everyone will have a song to sing along at the Song Sing!”

With fifes and drums and squires with trailing headpieces, the retinue of King Corocovo III’s court began the trek to Sil. They could arrive in an easy five hours, and by that time, Tudops would hang suspended at the top of the sky. And all the Games players and spectators and the hundreds of different craftspeople of all kinds who lined the roads of the approaches- all the King’s majesty was emboldened now, as Duron rode beside them, and a mob of raggly children followed merrily behind.

The process of the Games- the week of the contests, fetes, feasts, and orgies, took a week. Each day was demarcated with special attention to some aspect of the variety of attentions which could call people from the countryside from all over the kingdom.

The first day was the Day of the Song Sing.

It was followed by the day of the Targonids, the Day of the Bakers, The Day of the Harvest, the Day of the Virgins, the Day of the Champions, and the Day of Tudops. To wit- the Day of the Targonids was devoted to targonid completions, athletic and culinary. From roping and riding to barbecuing with relish, the Day of the Targonids meant that many, many of the crowds around would at least get a good plateful of the succulent meat for their supper, whether at the terms of the King at the end of the afternoon, or the Queen’s judge, comments on chef’ prowess, where free samples were ranged to the first three or four hundred who could pack the square near the great Targonid Ovens that lay on one portion of the Arena’s exterior.

The Bakers utilized their own ovens, on the other side of the arena, the following day, It would be a give that Rolot the baker would be conniving to get one of the various patrons who made up the panel of judges to taste one of his creations. The Day of the Harvest featured a ceremonial parade with a cornucopia drawn on a long low wagon, with marching bands and proud farm boys in line as the King and the Queen gazed over them in reverent praise. For it was hard work making the crops grow. The Ztamian winter was fiercer than would have been Earth’s, with four months of bleak cold edged with terrific rain and lightning storms. The crops needed be in before all that commenced, and it was so that these rude laborers could feel honor in their efforts that a day was given over to them.

The Day of the Virgins was one the reasons all the children were hastening to get to Sil. For to be the first among their cohort to lose this proof of innocence was nearly always some sort of contest for many of the runaways who came of their own to the Arena and the Games for Games Week. A king and a queen virgin would be nominated from among the scrabbly bands of runaway kids, by the acclamation of the children themselves. While it may or may not have been something of a status symbol to be the King of the Virgins, Honk Honk however would rather ready himself for the sacrifice of that detestable title, and more for the Champion of the Bed. He thought that title would suit him a hella lot better, anyway. Once the King and Queen of Virgins had been picked, it would be their due to have to consummate in copulation in front of a thousand mainly elder Ztamians. The old beefy men in their greasy togas kneeling behind their wagons to ejaculate at passerby were always guaranteed to get their jollies, as were the matronly cougars who prowled the amphitheater rows, seeking out tousle- headed young studs for their flattering gigolos.

The Day of the Champions was when the winners from the competitions- a fair majority of which took place on this day alone- were named and celebrated, with crowns of laurel and orgofam, and as well, champions were named from among the semi-official competitions which took place in the many venues of sexual pleasure. That male and female champion were almost always, but not in all cases, called upon by their peers to fornicate in a special grove which had been unofficially created in a vale about two kilos from the Arena- there, in a ceremony lit by torches and on a bed made of orgofam briars, surrounded by dozens of their admirers, the winners would copulate, sometimes for hours, while cheered on by these friends … Who themselves turned to each other, for frolic was the name of the game whenever the races and trysts of the day had been completed.

The final day, the day when everyone took their bets on how they were going to spend the next five days, five months, five years, or a lifetime, with any conceptualized idea of a partner, was the Day of Tudops. This was given over completely to the cult of their star, and all the many different sorts of sacrifice were made. The Song of Tudops was once again sung, lustily by all, for at the completion of this final day would also conclude with another very serious mass orgy. Couples of all kinds made their selves known as such, for in this humid climate, there had never been any impetus for those attending the games to wear any sort of dress. Special houses had been erected in different spots round Sil and the Arena where Games-goers could shed whatever they had come wearing, and have them safely secured and returned when they departed.. It was most people’s hope not to make the return trip alone, for another great benefit of the Day of Tudops was that it was the traditional day of final choice, for women to pick what man they had best been pleasured by over the last week, and for men to make vows unto the women who had chosen them. This was the way things usually went. In most years. But this year, with the King’s situation at the palace with Queen Aashon in such a state, it was unclear if the King would be staying at Sil long enough to hold forth over the great finale Sing, or cast his blessing over the thousands of copulating subjects who were in every position imaginable when he would take the time to take leave of them all.