The Return to Sarmatia 12
Lancelot turned and gazed at his sister in amazement. He never would have imagined those words coming out of her mouth.
He turned to look at the other Knights and saw that they too were surprised, but not opposed to her coming home with them.
He had known, almost the instant those words left her mouth, and that his friends and family wouldn't deny her. It was the Sarmatian part of his family that would be the trouble.
He looked at his mother and saw the tears gathering in her eyes. His father looked choked up too.
He couldn't even think of that kind-of pain. He would be mortally devastated if he was any more than a week's travel from his children at any one time.
He was dreading the time his girls were eligible to be married off to anyone willing to pay his price. He was tempted to make the price nearly three times the current annual costs of running Camelot, but he knew Emogen would skin him alive if he did.
He gazed into his sister's brown eyes, so like his own, and said seriously, "This is a serious decision, are you sure Habren?"
Ama gasped and exclaimed, "Why?"
Habren looked apologetically at her mother and father and said, "Mother, I have nothing here…my husband is dead, I have no children, I'm twenty and five years old; no man is going to want me. I want children mother, and in Britain I can find myself a husband who doesn't care that I'm over twenty summers."
Babai tilted his head and asked his daughter because he knew her words were right, "Why is that Habren??"
Habren smiled at her father and said as Tarkan slid to her side with Jessiopeia beside him, "Because the age of adulthood in Britain is twenty and one; mother, father, to them I'm still a young woman in the blossoms of youth and still eligible for marriage."
Ama blinked at that.
Her daughter spoke truth. She wouldn't be getting any other proposals for marriage as she was ten years older past the age marriage, and she hated that law.
Habren continued, "Here in Sarmatia our people are constantly under the power of Rome and our boys taken to distant lands; most of whom will never return. Here in Sarmatia, our daughters are forced into marriages with men three times their ages and with men who could be their second cousins by the same grandfather. Here in Sarmatia our sons and daughters are smothered by the hierarchy who believes they are the Gods incarnate, and crave only that which they can get by standing on the shoulders of others…like the Romans, and here in our own beloved country our nobles believe that they are above all the laws in which our councils agreed on. But, in Brittany, they have won their freedom and their children grow and thrive in the knowledge that freedom is theirs by right and law. There their boys don't get ripped from their mother's arms as babes and forced to kill before they are ten and three. There their daughters can be anyone they can think up without fear of persecution from those of authority. There, in Britain, everyone has the voice of choice, and even the highest of all powers, King Arthur himself, isn't above the law should he be found in suspicion."
Tarkan nodded and said simply, "Mother, Father, our future is bleak to be sure if we stay here. Not only because of what Habren has just said, but for more realistic purposes…our elders are forcing young men to marry those women who are close family in a 'divine' effort to save our 'divine' race. Our people are as racist as the Romans and Rome's culture is spreading through our people more and more each day."
He sighed, hugged his lover and ended, "Our people are being born more and dumber each and every generation. We NEED the new blood of other races."
He finished, "Our people want to return to the ways of our glorious ancestors, but our glorious ancestors were Amazons who mated with whoever met the requirements of that particular Amazon. We HAD no ONE blood type or people, and that's why we survived! We are DYING mother! But in Britain, where hundreds if not thousands of our ancestors have lived and served Rome many of our peoples descendants still survive."
Habren continued, "Mother, your own brother, our uncle is alive and well! He married, had a child, possible children, and now he thrives in Britain as a leader worthy of our noble ancestors."
She turned to her father and said, "Father, your brother still lives too. We've never seen him, but word of his smithy is well known across the wall of Hadrian. He is there! Our family, our great and noble family, is small and dying here but growing and thriving there!"
Lancelot bit his lip and ended, "So, what is keeping the Lion Tribe here, on this land, besides the traditions of the tribe and an obligation to stay and play 'daddy dearest' to all the squabbling children of the others tribes so honorably called the council?"
Babai opened his mouth to deny those words as he had been doing more and more with the passing years, but froze as he truly thought about the situation.
His children, if he was honest with himself, were right.
His own beloved Lion Tribe, the mighty Lions descended from Aries, Harmonia and Hippolyta, who were once twenty and five families strong; were now only ten and three. With every generation the families were getting closer and closer to one another in familial ways.
Before his tenure as a Knight of Sarmatia, he and his brothers and sisters could claim not even a tiny percentage of blood relations that truly meant something to seven families in the Lion Tribe. Now, nearly every single one of the remaining families was at least cousins removed only by three maybe four times.
In the council meetings, his vote, which used to be so important in making laws when he was a younger more virile man, was now used to control squabbling tribes who wanted more power.
He looked at his oldest children.
Lancelot, his eldest and greatest heir, was no longer a Sarmatian. He had given his alliance to Arthur Pendragon many years ago, and Babai knew it wouldn't break because he wished it too.
Tarkan, his second son and heir, who had been destined to marry a Wolf Princess, had abdicated his power to be with the woman he truly loved, a Grecian woman, and he couldn't be upset with that choice. Jessiopeia was beautiful in every way and he was truly excited to see the birth of his newest grandchild.
Habren, his first born daughter, the light of his life after Lancelot left them, had gleaned all the knowledge he could ever impart to any of his children, and she still thought that their goals were helpless.
He turned to his wife, Ama, and saw the indecision on her face too. She was confused and frightened about their future like he was.
Lastly, he turned to his youngest children, Hera and Zimkar. They were only just into their teens and Hera was at marriageable age. She was a free spirit though and didn't want to be tied down to any man three times her age, and she wasn't mature enough to raise a child.
At that thought, he turned to Ama and Malana. Ama had been in her late teens when they married, but she had been raised to understand that she'd be a mother before she turned twenty. She understood that and even welcomed it. All she had wanted as a girl was to be a loving mother to her children. She hadn't aspired to be anything else.
Malana on the other hand, from what he remembered was born and bred to only be a breeding cow for whoever she married, and after her first bleeding at the age of twelve she was married off and a new mother by the time she was ten and three.
His youngest daughter was three years older than what Malana had been!
He blinked at the simple answer.
Could their ways of increasing their population be truly ruining their people as a whole?
Hera wasn't mature enough to be a mother. He could easily see that, and he wasn't inclined to make her marry if she didn't want to.
He had learned his lesson from his actions with Habren well.
Malana, from what he's seen of her treatment of her many children, wasn't a loving mother like her mother before her. She had been too young and to wild to be a mother and her children paid the price like Malana had paid because of her mother.
Malana's daughters, Agrimpasa, Areia and Athena were just a spoiled and unfit for marriage, and it was easy to see that any child they had would pay as past generations of their line had.
He turned to Zimkar, his last son and only Sarmatian heir. He was so excited to know his future as the King of the Lion Tribe. He had been equally excited when they found out from Habren that Lancelot was alive and well. He couldn't wait to learn from his brother's side the ways of their people.
Unfortunately, the ways of their people, their true people, were no longer alive. The men and boys of Sarmatian that still lived and breathed Sarmatian air were a sorry excuse for the men and boys of past generations. Their skills as a horse-people were poor and sorry at best.
His son's, Lancelot's, skills as a horseman was ten times better than those of others because he HAD to learn to control his horse in the Roman Calvary. Because of his enforced slavery, he understood the true meaning of freedom better than Zimkar. Lancelot, because of his fifteen years of war and sacrifice, understood the ways of battle on any fighting ground be they a battle field, politics, or even simple arguing.
Zimkar had none of these skills and because of his own selfish desires to protect his youngest and only remaining heir, he hadn't taught those interpersonal skills to the boy.
He was close to fifty and five now. He wasn't sure he could make the long trip to Britannia like he had once long ago. The land was a harsh mistress and he no longer had the body to make such a trip.
He sighed and said, "Truthfully my son, there is nothing keeping us here that you haven't already said. But, I am too old to traverse the lands of Gaul, and…"
Lancelot smiled at his father and said, "Who said we were taking the lands of Gaul home father? We came by the water ways and shall return by the water ways. It'll be two to three weeks worth of travel and then we'll be in Camelot's port of call, Kameland Port. From there it's only a two hour horse ride to Camelot."
Ama blinked at those words. While her husband her been thinking about the words of their eldest, she had too.
Her birth tribe, the Cheetahs, was dwindling faster and faster with each new generation born because three fourths of the babies died before they hit their second birthday.
She was the only remaining 'royal' left alive of all her siblings, barring her brother in Britain, and she was the sole remaining vote for her tribe. But, as she was female, she had no real say in casting the vote as they believed as Rome believed-women couldn't handle nor understand politics. They believed women to be only good for warming beds and rearing children. As such, she had a proxy to vote in her stead. Unfortunately, that proxy didn't always vote the way she wanted him too. Her proxy was her family's tribal competitor, as the second most powerful Cheetah clan, and his views were very different from hers.
Her eldest didn't want to stay here in the place of their birth because they had seen and experienced another land full of better and brighter things. She couldn't fault them for leaving. But she was old, and her last two children were young. Older than Lancelot when he left true, but they were mentally way younger than her eldest children had been.
Whereas Lancelot had been raised to take command and knew as he grew that he was destined to leave by the time he was ten and two possibly three, Hera and more importantly Zimkar were raised more freely in their mindset.
They were allowed to be children.
The first three hadn't been.
Her eldest daughter was a testament to how different her children were raised. Habren had been raised to know she would be married before she was twenty.
Hera knew this, but she, as a mother, hadn't beaten it into Hera's skull as she grew up as she did with Habren.
Even Tarkan had known, as he grew up, that certain expectations were anticipated for him once he reached a certain age.
Zimkar hadn't had those expectations.
He and Hera had children mindsets and still did.
She looked to her daughter-n-law, Emogen, and saw how she cared for all three of her children in the same way. She couldn't help but feel a little resentful…or was it envious because Emogen had this lovely time with her children.
She eyed her niece, Ula, too.
Ula, her twin's daughter, was also giving her children equal time and attention.
Was it truly as simple as how they live?
In Sarmatia, parents couldn't or wouldn't spend anymore time than what was needed with their eldest children because they knew those children would be taken away from them.
In Sarmatia, the eldest had all the responsibility and from childhood were expected to be young adults and married off by the time they were twenty, younger even.
It was the youngest that were spared the awful dictations of the councils and more often than not, it was the youngest who were more well-rounded adults when they did reach adulthood.
The eldest ones always seemed to have problems be they mental, spiritual, or physical.
Luckily Lancelot and his friends seemed to have resolved whatever problems they MIGHT HAVE had, and were truly upstanding people.
She turned to her youngest and asked, "Do the two of you want to stay here? Or do you want to live in Britannia with your elder siblings?"
She wasn't sure why she was asking, but she wanted to know what their answers would be. They were only children after all.
Hera blinked and said, "I'd like to go mother, father. Like Habren said, I could be anything I wanted to be there, and here I'd be married off to some 'old stogy' that would only use me for his own needs."
Ama was shocked. She hadn't been aware of the fact that her daughter knew of such things.
Zimkar thought deeply for a few minutes, stared at Lancelot and asked seriously, "Are the problems of our people as a whole truly so unhealable brother?"
Lancelot met his brother's stare evenly and said, "Zimkar, let me ask you something…who is to be your bride?"
Zimkar blinked and answered, "Before you came home, I was to be wed off to Areia of the Wolf Tribe."
Lancelot pursed his lips in annoyance and asked, "And what is your opinion of her?"
Malana, who had been off to the edge while all this was going on, jumped to her feet and exclaimed, "STOP THIS!!!!! We are Sarmatians! Our land is HERE! Our people's pride is HERE!!! Who are THEY to tell us our way of LIFE is wrong?! They, who haven't been here for the past twenty years!!!"
Areia, who had been running her hands through her hair and NOT paying any attention to her 'supposed' fiancées, Zimkar and or Lancelot, jumped to her feet and exclaimed heatedly the only thing she truly cared about, "I AM TO BE THE QUEEN OF THE LIONS!!!! YOU AREN'T TO LEAVE ME FOR SOME OTHER LAND!! HOW AM I TO RULE IF YOU LEAVE?? HOW AM I TO GAIN ALL THE WEALTH IF YOU ARE GONE?!?!"
Zimkar blinked at that, turned to his eldest brother, saw him rolling his eyes in annoyance at the very immature tone and words, and suddenly understood.
All that his family had said was true. He saw it before they came back, actually, but he had always hoped that things could be changed when Habren brought Lancelot back home.
Lancelot was all he had ever wanted to be and more.
Lancelot was tall and strong and proud.
Lancelot was a masterful horseman.
He was the Twin Demon Sword master.
Lancelot was confident and a great leader of his people.
He was gallant and brave.
Chivalrous and gentle.
Smart and tactful.
He wasn't cocky or ignorant to the ways of the world.
He wasn't against learning new ways to go about things like others of the Sarmatian people were, and Lancelot wasn't so egotistical that he forced dozens upon dozens of men to leave their chosen families to marry and create pureblood families like Atilla Du Huk had done.
He sighed and said, "I think I want to go to Britannia mother, father…what they said is all true, we are dying here and it's only a matter of time when we do. Whether we kill ourselves out of existence or our enemies the Huns and or the Scythians kill us first it doesn't really matter. The truth is, we WILL be dead…it's only a matter of time."
Lancelot nodded and said as the other Knights, who had been overseeing the packing of all their things, "Pack only what you need. We'll get you all new things once we reach Camelot."
Babai nodded and said, "I will make the announcement."
It only took three hours before they were on their way; heading towards Britain and Camelot after only three days of being in Sarmatia.
Babai was amazed at how to few people opted to join them. Out of the thirteen families that made up the Lion Tribe, only five had decided to join them on the journey, and all five were first cousins to him and his family.
The rest had decided to stay and follow the ways of Queen Malana and her ilk. He hadn't realized how far she and those like her had influenced their people as a whole.
Now that he understood, he couldn't bring himself to care what happened to those that had stayed. For whatever would come, it was now their choice, and no longer his responsibility.
He no longer had the fate of hundreds upon his shoulders.
He felt great!