[piosenniel]

Rôg

Rôg was lying on his pallet, drowsing in the day’s heat, watching the occasional pass of his ‘escort’s’ legs past the tent’s half closed opening. Soon, the young man assigned to him for the day would take his accustomed seat in the shade of a nearby lean-to and rest himself. It was a ritual they mutually maintained each afternoon now. The cloth bottom of the tent had been rolled up several inches all around, in an effort to encourage some small ventilation. He lay on his back, hands linked behind his head, staring up at the small patch of bright sky through the smoke hole at the top. He was in that state of semi-drowse where thoughts float about in hazy little patches with no attempt at exploration. He was in fact just seconds from sleep when a small, insistent whisper grated against his failing consciousness.

‘Psst! Are you awake?’ a hushed little voice rasped somewhere near his right ear.

Fighting against the thick pull of oblivion, Rôg’s eyes came open. Seeing nothing near him, he sat up, sending a small brown skink scrabbling back from his moving legs.

‘Psst!’ came the tiny sound once again. It was the lizard.

‘Who visits me?’ Rôg asked in a hushed voice, wondering if Aiwendil was trying out this form for some purpose. He drew his limbs into a cross-legged position and looked at the little reptile expectantly. He stifled a surprised squeak when, to his horror, the lizard changed and there sat Miri, knee to knee with him, a large grin on her face.

‘You promised your Papi you wouldn’t do this,’ he returned in a harsh whisper. ‘And how did you learn to be a lizard, if I might ask?’ He shook his head at himself, the answer dawning on him even as he’d asked the question.

‘I promised I wouldn’t be a butterfly!’ she hissed back at him. Miri’s face peered up in defiance at Rôg, her large brown eyes made darker by the low light in the tent. The grin on her face had faded to a thin, straight line of lips, her attitude one of challenge. To her surprise, he chuckled low, reaching out to riffle her hair.

‘My sister loved the little skinks, too,’ he confided, smiling. Then in a more serious tone, he questioned her on how she had managed to make this change. Miri, with the assured confidence of a child, related how she’d figured out the rhyme he’d taught her. ‘It’s not just for butterflies,’ she answered, her voice filled with the certainty of her statement. ‘My brother and I often go out to the rocks at the edge of camp and watch the lizards sunning there in the early morning, or skittering across the sand to catch some bug. I know them pretty well,’ she said smugly. ‘One morning, when he wasn’t finished with his chores, I went out ahead of him. And I tried it out!’ She giggled, adding, ‘And he almost caught me!’

Bright little one! he thought, his eyes crinkling with amusement at her excitement. The remembrance of his discussion with Narika and Thorn intruded, then, and he bent near to her. ‘I’m going to ask you to honor the promise you made your Papi,’ he said to her in a serious voice. ‘And no wiggling around it . . . at least for now,’ he added softening his request. ‘I am leaving for a little while, Miri. My clan, too, has Elders, that help us see our way through to doing what is right and understanding what is wrong. I have questions for them that need figuring out. When I return . . .’ He pause a moment, realizing what he had just said. He hadn’t intended to return at all and here he was making a small promise to this little girl. ‘When I return, I will speak with your Papi and we will see what he might let us do.’ He raised an eyebrow at her as she pursed her lips, considering his request. He could see her struggling with her decision.

‘Well . . . you promise you’re coming back . . . right?’ Her eyes searched his face for any signs of grown-up deceit. She raised her little fist to him, her pinky cocked expectantly.

Rôg laughed aloud at this old familiar gesture from childhood. Not hesitating, he linked his own with hers. ‘I promise, my friend. And you, also?’ She nodded, then released his little finger. ‘One thing, though,’ she said, ‘I can go out and watch the lizards, right? I haven’t got all their little wigglings quite right yet.’ Rôg whispered ‘yes’ to her, then putting his finger to his lips, motioned for her to sneak out the back way. He could hear the scuffling sound of his escort’s feet as he approached the front tent flap. She scurried quietly beneath the tent edge, then turned back quickly with a last comment.

‘The little mice with the big golden eyes that run around the dunes at night – I’m going to have a look at them, too.’ She saw the frown on his face. ‘Just “look”,’ she assured him, scurrying off.

Rôg stood, yawning widely, as the young man cleared his throat just beyond the tent flap. ‘Everything alright in there?’ he asked, his feet shuffling at the entrance. ‘I thought I heard voices?’ Throwing open the flap, Rôg invited the fellow in. ‘Just napping,’ he assured the young man, whose eyes darted around the vacant tent. ‘Must have been talking in my sleep.’ Rôg looked questioningly at the young man. ‘You haven’t, by any chance, seen Aiwendil, have you? I need to speak with him.’