A SCROLL OF BOOKS: The Book of Tales: "The Forgivers"

 A SCROLL OF BOOKS:

The Book of Tales: "The Forgivers"

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At the funeral ceremony of Mithar's first Queen, the distraught King Vedumar leaned over to his advisor, "Why has this affair not begun? Two days now and it has not begun. Do you not smell the corpse from here, despite all the lit oils and herbs?"

"My Lord King, the people still await the arrival of the Kubael," his counselor whispered in return.

"Kubael? What is this I have not been made aware of until now?"

Näahdaw heard the escalation in Vendumar's tone.

"Kubael - is a Forgiver, sire," Näahdaw's voice was low and calm. He continued, "Lord, you must not forget that these Bedouins have given up much in their compliance to your crown. Yet are they staunch in their unmoving belief in this unwavering custom."

Vendumar remained perplexed, "Pray, and what custom is this that I must now be made to submit to?"

"Sire, your wife, our Queen is and was first and foremost a Nasilian, and a 'Cicadite most faithful'." A stern smile came over the Counselor's face, "You saw both the gold and copper coins placed over her Ladyship's eyes? They are for more than closing them; they are payment for services rendered by the Kubael. The flat bread, dripped with three drops of the Queen's blood, that was placed atop her bosom was to absorb her -- sin, Sire. For all eternity she will be forgotten and annihilated to be unremembered. Yet, it is the voluntary task of the Kubael to accept the fate of being unremembered and eternally banished, until summoned for this task of forgiving the Queen's sin."

"A sin-eater? What is this superstitious rubbish, in our time and age," Vendumar blurted aloud!

"One that in time my lord you may devise a way out of, but as for today without his services the people are content in themselves to allow your wife to rot where she now lays," this Näahdaw did not whisper as all eyes fell on the King in validation.

Vendumar's sigh and slumping shoulders showed his resignation to allow the ceremony to continue.

The murmuring and mourning sobs all fell silent as the rear of the crowds began parting a pathway to the raised dais of the Queen Nalawë. A stranger had entered into their midst. He was dressed, from head to barefeet, all in black; his robe's high, oversized hood was draped back. The man's face was half concealed by the masking of the hood's removal. Only his darkened outlined eyes were seen. The figure's face, slicked back hair, hands and bare feet were caked in a cracking white paint. The Kubael smelt unbathed and looked like Death personified.

The strange figure approached the Queen's body and slowly removed the coins with both hands, slipping them soundlessly into previously unnoticed outer pockets. Then, taking the flat bread, he tore it in half and ate it until fully consumed, then turned back and left as eerily as he had entered. A breath later and all the sounds of whaling cries continued as before.

Vendumar looked utterly spent emotionally, a changed figure from that moment onward.