Quibble, 56. Sah

A fable of the Far.

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56. Sah

A fable of the Far

Once, a warrior of the Qahlif, a mighty sah, took up his armor and went with his brethren to raid the Isleh. Their campaign failed. Learning of it early, the Isleh laid an ambush for the Qahlif raiders and drove them into the southwest stretches of Ayn-qesh, which some call the Great Waste.

In the rout, this mighty sah was weighed down by his armor, but he would not throw it away, even when he saw the other sah throw away all their armor. His armor was his qeht, his spirit-guide. He was fond of it above all else he had. So burdened with sword, helmet, shield, and breastplate, he fell behind his brethren. Then, the earth flew and blew away their tracks, and he was lost in Ayn-qesh.

He wandered the endless dunes for days, meeting no one. His qeht was now even more burdensome. The sword and shield seemed to grow heavier with each step he took. The helmet and breastplate made him sweat profusely, and his skin was chafed when sand got under them. Yet still he would not discard a single piece of armor.

“If I die,” he swore to himself, “upon my hel I will die a sah with all my armor, and I will not die with no qeht!”

Though he drank as little as he could, at last his water skin ran dry. When he had gone two days without water in the desert, his thirst drove him to madness. By noon on the third day, his throat so begged for something, anything, that he dropped to hands and knees and he began to eat the sand.