The Sacrifice

I felt a rough burlap hood being pulled from my head. It took a moment for my eyes to focus, then I gasped at the sight before me. Standing in a semi-circle around a blazing fire stood several dozen very tall women and men, each with a third eye painted on their foreheads.

I heard a cackle of delight and realized the captain was standing to one side, doubled over in laughter. “Aye! How I love the looks on their faces every time. It never fails to give me a gut-buster!”

I looked at the captain in disbelief. “Oh, don’t give me that look, missy. Whadja think L’Enchanteur pays me to do?”

A set up? Had the cook been right after all? I surveyed the area around me. All the other travelers stood nearby, looking terrified. Even the little donkeys brought along by some stood shivering behind their mistresses.

My head pounded in pain. My last clear recollection was the first cup of rum in the captain’s dining room. Somewhere between that cup and the bottom of the barrel, I had agreed to go with her and the others to find the Bog People. Apparently, she had convinced us that they knew the direction to the Cave of the Ancients.

I remember stumbling aboard a longboat, singing with the others something about ninety-nine bottles of beer. I remember rowing out to the marshy shoreline and commenting to the others about how the stars would not stay still in the sky. When we disembarked we zigzagged our way along a wooden-planked walkway through the bog.

It is still not clear how long we walked, but suddenly, out of the darkness came a chorus of rebel yells and trilling shrieks. With that, we began careening back down the walkway towards the boat, ignoring the captain’s bellowed order to “stand firm!”. Then, out of the tall reeds, I was grabbed from behind and a hood thrust over my head.

I do not remember much of what happened next except that we were hustled along for a while and then came to a stop. Unhooded now, my temples throbbed in pain and my stomach was about to hurl.

“A little hung over, are we?” The captain chuckled. “It took me damn near an entire barrel of rum to get you likkered up enough to come. Where’d you learn to drink? From that lush you call a horse?” The captain wailed off into another fit of laughter.

“Ebony, we really don’t have time for this,” said the tallest woman in a low silky voice. “My dear,” she said, looking at me, “please come forward so we can see you.”

I did not move.

The captain hissed, “Don’t embarrass me!” I glared at her as I slowly stepped forward. She continued, “May I introduce Porthosina, your majesty, a noble woman from the mighty tribe of the…the …..Muskateers!”

My glare turned to a look of wide-eyed disbelief. The captain leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I couldn’t really use the name ‘Lorijayne’ now, could I? A might dull, don’t you think? ”

“Porthosina! A strong name, worthy of a Seeker of the Ancients. We apologize for our rough treatment, but we feared you would all hurt yourselves running blindly through the bogs. And we needed to hood you to protect our location. Did not your captain explain all this to you?”

Everyone turned their eyes toward Captain Wilder, who was now yawning and filing her nails. She looked up and gave a weak smile. “Well, Your Majesty, you don’t need me anymore so I’ll be heading off….”

“Wait!” and “Don’t leave us!” erupted from the group, but the captain merely saluted and sauntered off into the darkness.

We all turned back to the Bog Queen and her entourage. I reached for my Chinese sword, but realized that I had not taken it to dinner that night. It was uselessly back in my cabin.

“Do not fear, travelers. I’m sure Captain Ebony merely forgot to mention that we are not the fearsome creatures of myth and legend. We do not sacrifice people and throw them to the….oh, what does she call it these days?” She leaned to the bog women next to her who mumbled something. “Yes, she calls it the ‘Taraka’. We do not make live sacrifices to the ‘Taraka’.

The sigh of relief was audible. “But,“ she thundered, “you will have to sacrifice something tonight to prove your worthiness to continue your journey to the Cave of the Ancients!”

The travelers began muttering to themselves. I stepped forward, “Your majesty, we have brought no valuables with us. We were not prepared to come this evening….”

“You must make a sacrifice!! That is the price to receive the directions to the Cave. Each of you, decide what is so important in your life, something so important that you think you could not possible live without it. We will adjourn for a short time so you may contemplate your gift.” The Queen and her party turned and evaporated into the darkness.

I sat down on the cold muddy ground and wrapped my cloak around me. I had to think. What was important to me? A number of valuable objects and beloved people back home came to mind but obviously I could not and would not surrender them. I buried my face in my hands. I did not feel well at all. I felt vertigo set in. I looked up and saw the tall grasses start to spin around me and the ground rise up to meet me. The others in our group faded from view and I found myself alone in the clearing with only the Bog Queen herself standing in front of me.

“You are having difficulty, yes?” I nodded. The Queen sighed and said, “Let me make a suggestion.” She held out two framed documents. I saw my name clearly printed on both of them.

“My diplomas!”

“Yes, indeed. Education is very important to you, yes?” I said nothing but continued to stare. Where was she going with this?

“You worked very hard for these degrees. It took you about 11 years, going to classes at night, to finish, am I right? You have thanked the Heavens for this opportunity. We have heard your prayers from far away. “

Horror overtook me.

“What if we took these away from you…..”

“No, you can’t! How can you? I can’t unlearn what I’ve learned.”

“What if these diplomas were destroyed? What if a computer error erased all record of your attendance and all evidence of your completion? What if…..everything you were taught in class was wrong?!

I paused for a moment and then quietly said, “I would be nothing.”

“Oh, come, come, my dear. You know that is not true. Would you be any less creative without these degrees? Of course not. Your education is a useful tool to introduce you to ideas and books that you can draw from as you create. But they DO NOT affirm you in any way. You are smart and talented and creative without them.”

She laid the framed diplomas before me, and said, “What are you going to do?”

Slowly, I stood and picked the frames off the ground. I fondled them for a moment, then moved to the edge of the walkway. With a wide motion, I flung both frames into the darkness. After a moment I heard them splash into the muddy slough of the bog.

My head began to spin again and I thought I would be sick, but before I could make good on that feeling, I found myself seated in the longboat with Captain Wilder who was rowing us back to the Calabar.

“Back so soon?” She chuckled. I looked around and saw the others also back in the boat, each looking dazed. I looked down and saw in my hand a small bottle containing a scroll. The captain said, “Hold on to that, dearie. That be the next step in your journey. I glanced up at the captain. She grinned and said, “I love my job. I really do.”

Lori Gloyd © June 2006