Ibn Sharjar: The Crystal Mines and a wager
Posted on 12 Feb 2023 @ 10:41pm by Atif ibn Sharjar - Merchant of the Al Ashar
Edited on on 15 Jun 2023 @ 6:12pm
Mission:
Ongoing Mission - Planet Obsidian
Location: Oasis of the Nine Stones
Timeline: M3 D07 1630hrs
3172 words - 6.3 OF Standard Post Measure
They had waited out the afternoon heat at the watchtower, sharing in Kasig and Nedjla’s lunch meal. Nedjla had gone below to prepare it while Kasig remained on watch. Ibn Sharjar had passed the time looking out over the tower’s rampart.
The obsidian glass hill upon which the tower stood was perhaps two thirds of the distance from the northern wall of the oval shaped depression of the oasis; maybe thirteen or fourteen kilometers and about central to it’s east-west walls, some five or six kilometers away on each side. There were several other outcrops of rock and a couple of tall, jagged obsidian spires sticking up out of the oasis, those were nearly the same height as the hill, but thin and spindly, with cliffs too steep to climb and summits too small for any building.
To the north, he could see back towards the fields and pastures and in the distance the shimmer of the open water at the village. To the east, it was mostly scrubby trees and brush as far as the black glass cliffs. A thin silvery line glittered through the undergrowth, indicating the presence of a narrow stream. To the west of the hill, it was more desert-like, mostly sand dunes and rocks. These spread around to the south, where there was a depression in the ground, several wadies and canyons sunk down, heading towards the southern rim, perhaps six or seven kilometers away.
As he gazed out south, Ibn Sharjar caught a wisp of smoke, rising from out of the wadies. He pointed it out to Jelik.
“A cooking fire from one of the crystal mines” Jelik responded, “We will go there next, there is some shade in the wadies and it is cooler”
After lunch, they made their way back down the hillside. The coming up the narrow, steep, path had been difficult; it seemed worse going down. Descending each tall step, one by one, made Ibn Sharjar feel like he was lurching forward, almost off-balance and he was glad when they reached the bottom, thankful that this side of the hill was now in shade.
Their Eralsu were dozing contently in the corral, though Heta perked up quickly when Ibn Sharjer tossed her another of the sweet treats from his bag, careful to keep his fingers out of the way of her scything mandibles. She lifted a leg and he clambered back up into the saddle, settling himself in and buckling the waist belt. Within a few minutes they were scuttling along again, rounding the base of the hill and following the track, southwards into the rocky desert.
They passed one of the tall thin obsidian spires he had seen from the tower. It was almost like the blade of a stiletto knife, poking upwards out of the sand. The glass was worn smooth and dull by the wind and grit, but here and there were cracks and fissures and within was a glittering, deep inky blackness.
The track began to descend into the mouth of a rocky wadi, it was perhaps a hundred meters across, almost like a trench or fault in the desert. The sand gave way to rock walls, layered with colorful strata in a range of browns, tans and ochers. Within a few hundred meters the left side of the canyon dropped away, steeper still, with the track staying closer to the right-hand wall.
“Be careful here” Jelik cautioned, tuning back in his saddle “Stay on the track, there are pools of Fog Sand over there” he pointed to the left. “And hungry Qatarek, who would like nothing better than a couple of tender young boys or perhaps a tasty off-worlder, one whom is wearing their relatives as boots, for supper!” He gave his sons and Ibn Sharjar a grin.
Atif grinned in reply but as soon as Jelik had turned back, he edged Heta to the right with this toe and kept a wary eye to his left. There was not much to see, it looked like the rest of the canyon floor, rocks and areas of windblown sand.
A few minutes later Khasta, in the lead, startled a lizard basking on a rock. The creature scuttled across the track, dodging the beetle’s heavy feet and scurried off towards a patch of sand. It had gone no more than three or four feet when it suddenly began sinking, the lizard paddled its legs frantically and almost seemed to be rising up to the surface again when there was another movement.
A humped shape under the sand, maybe three feet across, darted forward. Only the ripples ahead of it showed its movement, arrowing backward almost like the bow-wave of an invisible ship on an ocean of sand. The ripples closed in rapidly on the flailing lizard. As the leading bow-wave reached it there was a whip-like flash of sandy-gray. A long, thin, pointed tail, with a barbed tip, arced up and over the humped shape and stabbed down into the lizard, impaling it. The lizard thrashed briefly, then was dragged beneath the sand and disappeared. All that was left were a few marks in the sand. Atif gave Heta another prod with his left toe, moving her a little further to the right.
They followed the canyon downwards, the walls provided cooling shade from the sun and heat. The canyon meandered along, forking off several times into side wadies. They stayed on the main track and after two or three kilometers it leveled out. The canyon opened into a dry rocky basin, its cliff-like sides perhaps a hundred and fifty meters tall, the far end perhaps a kilometer away. That far cliff was different, instead of the layered rocky strata of the canyon sides, it was shot through with pillars of obsidian that rose from the wadi floor to join the towering wall of black glass that surrounded the entire oasis.
The track led between tall piles of rock and dirt, mine tailings, much of it chunks of black glass. Beyond the tailing hills was a cluster of stone buildings, a wisp of thin smoke drifted lazily upwards from a chimney on the largest one. There was movement around the buildings, a line of Chuckaki-drawn carts, heavy wagons with solid wheels, loaded with rock, wound, their way slowly out into the tailings, where groups of tribesmen waited to unload them.
Jelik exchanged greetings with the cart drivers as they continued along the track, coming to the group of buildings, where they dismounted.
“Take our mounts down to the water cistern” Jelik instructed his sons. The two young boys strolled off, leading the Eralsu by their antenna reins. The three huge beetles towered over the children but trotted along meekly behind.
Jelik led the way around the buildings, as they turned a corner Ibn Sharjar saw they were close to the base of the cliff now. Across a flat area of leveled rock were several openings, five in all. The openings were each about the size of a large doorway, maybe two and half meters tall, perhaps two meters across, the tops arched inwards. Dusty miners were moving in and out of two of the openings, pushing small carts of rocks and black obsidian, which were dumped into piles and from there others loaded a line of the large wagons. When an empty wagon returned from the tailings, the team of Chuckaki were unhitched and led to a full one, which they dragged off along the track.
“These are our obsidian crystal mines” Jelik explained leading the way over towards the cliff face “The stones my father showed you came from these very mines.”
He pointed to the various entrances, “Those two on the right, and this one before us, are old, they were started many generations ago and we no longer work them. These two -” he pointed to the pair on the left, with miners coming and going “- we still work. This one produced a fine vein of Rainbow crystals last year, more than anyone can remember.”
Just then a man came out of one of the mines, instead of a cart of rock he carried a woven basket. Jelik stopped him and had the miner show Ibn Sharjar the contents. There were a dozen or so of the crystals, each about the size of an large egg, unlike the ones he had seen in Gabrul’s shop these were dull and unpolished, but even so there was a hint of color within them.
The miner held some up “Mostly blue and green of good quality, but the rest contain the very tears of the Fiery One himself, of excellent quality!” He picked one out, spat on it and rubbed it on his sleeve, then passed it to Ibn Sharjar to look at. “Hold it lightly, less it burn your fingers” he grinned
Atif it took it and held it up to the sky, it was mostly dull like the rest but the damp patch was deep shiny blackness, and burning within it streaks of golden fire. Cleaned and polished it would be as impressive as the ones Gabrul had shown him.
“A beautiful crystal” he acknowledged returning it to the miner and blew on his fingers “I could almost feel the heat”
The man chuckled and placed the crystal back in the basket.
“And I thought that an Off-Worlder, whom we know are all servants of evil, would be immune to the heat” came a loud voice behind them.
Jelik rolled his eyes and turned towards the voice. “I see you Sumak” he said wearily
“Ahh... And in the company of the Servant of Evil it is none other than Jelik! Home from the cesspit of Kalara! I see you cousin. You look like you have gone soft!”
Ibn Sharjar turned around, he had heard the name Sumak mentioned earlier in the day in connection with Eralsu racing.
The voice belonged to a large and stocky Tribesman, over two meters tall, brawny arms, barrel chested, shaven headed, sharp eyes and a large mouth, which was currently spread in a wide toothy grin, crinkling the scars on his cheek. He wore the usual Tej style leather pants and boots, but instead of a tunic he wore a thick, heavy, leather waistcoat, that left his big arms free.
He clapped Jelik on the shoulder with a large meaty paw. “Soft and flabby! Too much loafing with those city dwellers. Come to the mines! We will work that fat off you soon enough!” he laughed and turned to look at Atif
“Bring your friend here, I can find work for evil doers too! Does the Off-Worlder have a name, or is he a just another devil?”
Jelik shrugged off the hand with a sigh. “This is Atif Ibn Sharjar, he is known to my father and myself. There is peace between us”
Sumak leaned back a little, right hand rising to his chin as he gave Ibn Sharjar a long stern look, then he dropped it and thrust out his hand and forearm “Atif Ibn, I see you!”
Ibn Sharjar took the man’s hand and forearm, as he expected it was like grasping an iron bar, Sumak had a crushing grip.
“There is peace between us” Sumak grinned widely, holding on tightly.
Atif smiled back, “I see you Sumak, there is peace between us”.
Sumak held the grip for a long moment, Atif continued to smile and resolved not to massage his aching hand out when the big man finally let go.
Sumak released his grip, then held his own hand up, shaking it melodramatically and then inspecting it closely. He laughed “Hmmm, not burned, perhaps you are not a devil after all!”
“My father promised Atif thirty-five polished crystals, seven of each color, of his own choosing” Jelik explained
“A handsome sum” Sumak replied “Come then, let us see what we have”
He led the way into the main building, There was a large open space, divided into several work areas. Sumak walked them through, explaining the process at each stage. The fellow who had shown them the basket of newly mined crystals was there, he and another man were inspecting the stones before handing them off to several others who washed and cleaned them.
In the next area the crystals were churned in barrels with various grades of other stones, grit and sand until they were partially polished. The crystals were then inspected and graded again by two lapidarists, who marked the crystals for cutting and shaping.
At a set of work benches sat another group of young apprentices, who used foot-driven grinding stones to make the initial cuts. The crystals were then re-inspected. Further cuts and refinements were marked and then the crystals were given their final cuts and shape by a group of master lapidarists, using handheld faceting tools and grinding compounds of crushed crystals. They cut facets into the crystals, opening up the wonderful colors and hues within.
The crystals were then given a final polish and clean in a mix of fine sand and crystal dust. The result was the sparkling crystals Ibn Sharjar had seen in Kalara.
Sumak then led the way through a doorway to a store-room, wooden shelves lined the walls, each held shallow wooden trays of cut and polished crystals, there were many hundreds there.
Ibn Sharjar was quietly amazed at the quantity and the apparent lack of security. The door was of a simple wooden construction, not particularly thick and with no lock. The room had two windows and there were no guards, just an elderly man sat at a desk, who appeared to be cataloguing a tray of crystals into a large ledger.
Sumak watched Ibn Sharjar look around and chuckled, “There are no thieves here, we are Tej-Ka-Jalfa! These crystals belong to all of us, we do not steal from ourselves!”
“Come, we shall find you thirty-five crystals, good ones” He called over the elderly man “My grandfather, Sumet, is Master of the crystals. He will find us seven of each color, of the best quality. We repay, in full, our debts of honor."
The elderly tribesman led Atif back to his desk and had him sit, then went over to the shelves and returned with several trays, each laden with crystals in the various shades and hues. “I shall select for you a variety of gems of the best quality” he explained, examining one of the trays “for your approval, please select from them or choose others as you wish”
He set out a dozen of the plainer deep black crystals before Ibn Sharjar, then opened a drawer and withdrew an ancient brass Loupe, handing it over he gestured for Atif to inspect the stones.
Ibn Sharjar accepted the Loupe with a smile, and used it to inspect the crystals, the device was of good quality, the lens providing a high degree of magnification. He discarded three of the jems, then withdrew his merchants tricorder from within his robe.
“With your permission?” he asked Sumet respectfully
The old man nodded with a grin. “Of course, would you care for coffee?”
Ove the next half an hour or so Ibn Sharjar sipped coffee and chose thirty-five stones. Seven of each color. The selection was not easy, as promised, each of the ones Sumet had brought him were of exceptional quality. The master provided him with soft leather pouches for each of the five colors and Atif placed them within his robe.
“You have a fine eye, or perhaps your device does” Sumet teased him gently “I would have chosen the same jems, but it has taken me sixty-two years to learn to make such decisions”
“Your experience and approval is more valuable than the suggestions of my device” Ibn Sharjar responded smoothly
Sumet nodded graciously and chuckled.
Back outside they met up with Gabrul and Sasil and the freshly watered Erasul. Sumak went straight over to Khasta, walking around the beetle, he shook his head. “He has got fat while you have been gone Jelik” he commented. “I see now why you no longer wish to race”
Jelik brindled and crossed over to his mount, running a hand protectively over the beetle's thorax carapace. “Nonsense! He is fit and lean and hard, as a warrior’s mount should be! Your Dhet-fel is thin-shelled and underfed like the sand snake you named him after!
Perhaps in a short sprint he might be quick, but my Khasta has stamina and endurance!”
Sumak laughed loudly, a group of miners was gathering around them and he played to the crowd. “It was more than a short sprint two years ago, as I recall…”
Jelik reddened slightly, but waved his hand dismissively, “It was half the distance of the long-run as I recall. The race was shortened due to the encroaching sand-storm.”
“Ah yes, the storm that spared you further embarrassment at being beaten over the full distance” Sumak countered. The crowd laughed. “And you have not raced since then!“
“I have been busy” Jelik replied, feigning indifference
“Are you busy after the next moon?” Sumak offered “The long-run will be over the full distance…”
“I may be, or I may not” Jelik said “I have not yet decided” The crowd Ooo-ed and Ahh-ed
“Ahhh, well I am sure finding all of fat-Khasta’s fodder does fill your time” The crowed laughed and clapped
“He is not fat!” Jelik protested, giving Sumak a glare “You are offending his disposition”
“I wager he cannot beat Dhet-fel over any distance! Whatever his disposition!” Sumak held up his left hand, palm flat, towards Jelik
Jelik looked at the hand and then to Sumak “A wager? The usual amount?”
“Double!” Sumak smiled. The crowd grew quiet now, looking between the two men, sensing a battle of wits was to take place.
“Double? I think I shall perhaps be busy”
‘Triple!”
“Triple?” Jelik had moved up to Khasta’s head and was scratching his beetle’s antenna. He pursed his lips and moved his head from side to side, mulling it over. “Quadruple would be more appropriate, since you have offended my Khasta’s dignity with your words”
“Quadruple?!” Sumak hesitated, his confidence shaken a little, he dropped his hand. The crowd hooted in scorn.
“Unless you would prefer just to apologize to Khasta?” Jelik asked “I can see that quadruple is too rich for you”
“Apologize?!” Sumak rumbled “I will not! Quadruple it is!” His hand came back up.
Without hesitation Jelik reached out and slapped Sumak’s hand with his own “Done!” The crowd cheered.
Later as they rode back up the track out of the canyon, Sasil asked his father “A quadruple wager father? Is that a lot?”
“Yes” Jelik responded, tight lipped. “Do not tell your mother”
