Twenty Ahns

Warning - This piece may disturb the delicate sensibilities of some. It may not be Tuchuk, it may not be Gorean but I can assure you ... it was very real. Please continue only at your will.

Save yourself a penny for the ferryman
Save yourself and let them suffer
In hope
In love
Mankind works in mysterious ways
~Nightwish

We are led to believe that the sound of a death rattle means that times is at an end. We are led to believe that the hardening of rigor mortis comes only after the last breath. We are led to believe many things that are not the complete truth.


I didn't question why Lorag had come for me. I simply slid my feet into my boots and slipped from my wagon. I remembered taking care of Saccha from the time of the storms. I remembered the tales of her broken family. I followed as her estranged son led the way to his mother's wagon without a word.

The seriousness of her condition was evident when I walked into her wagon. Death eminent. It was what the elder healer, Rakell, said quietly as I approached but the redundance of her words threw me a little. It was evident the stroke had left the old woman's mouth gaping open and her breaths so labored were simply an automatic response now ... one that heaved the frail body off the furs with each intake. It was evident in the colorations of Saccha's skin that was becoming mottled to a rich purple darkness then fading into a delicate blue as it crept over her body ... stiffening the extremities as it passed. She was caught half between this world and the next in some nightmarish limbo. Tangled in her tenacious will to survive, she could no longer release herself to find the peace of beyond.

Her family, so steeped in themselves and their own grief with hand wringing, wailing, and high pitched keening that they were oblivious to the old woman herself. For a while I tried to speak to them ...'Talk to her. It does not matter what you say just reach out to her. Tell her the things you need her to know, tell her the things she needs to hear.' But it was as if the three of us .. Saccha, the elder healer and I were within a glass bell, they could not breach. They came and went in a blur as if time did not correspond to their presence. I could hear them screeching that I did not belong here ... I was not family. They were screeching at each other in vile accusations even as they stood over her half lifeless form.

Without reacting to them, I spoke low against Saccha's ear. I spoke of her son at the foot of her furs, lettng her know that he was there. I spoke of her grandsons, Selim and Jorick, one at each hand. I spoke of her great grandchildren, naming each of them for her ... those that she had accepted and those that she had never acknowledged. I told her to behold her legacy. It almost startled me when she became animated, her arms and hands clawing the air and the dark eyes turned to me .. wide open, glassy in their stare and her tongue moved, hissing air over it to form sound. It was an ancient language that I did not remember ever hearing before. My mind did not comprehend her words but somewhere deeper inside I understood. Then she went still again except for the rasp of breath that still shook her.

Finally, the healer turned to me, telling me of what needed to be done. We began to bathe her in sweet oils and dress her. I moistened a sponge dotted in water to soothe over the parched dry lips and the swelling of her tongue. For a few ahns she would suckle at the dampness, then even this no longer reached her. Rakell reached for my hands and caught my gaze with her own. It was time to offer mercy, for both Saccha and for her family. I wanted to drag my hands away. I wanted to jump up and run .. run as far from this moment as I could ... and keep going ... but I didn't. I felt the sting of tears behind my lashes but they never fell. Not even when I helped Rakell move the old woman into the position that would trim the days of agony to mere ahns. It would shorten the suffering and bring the final peace. Those frail arms and legs so stiff and brittle, I prayed that they would not break by just the roll of the fur we used to move her.

I was there right beside her the entire time, I was there for the twenty ahns that it took Saccha to let go of this world. There was a gentle smile as I watched the last long sigh escape as if she might have found contentment. The wisp of mist rising to swirl about the inside of the wagon ... peering into the sleeping faces of each one of her family before turning to look at me. All I could do was offer a genteel nod of my head that it was going to be alright ... they ... were going to be alright and then she was gone.


For Norell May 17, 1920 - February 20, 2008