SiWren of the Patriarchs | Page 8

labors there as
they worked diligently to create numberless idols of stone, brass, silver,
pearl, ivory, gold, wood, bone, and sparkling, mystically colored
gemstones and jewels.
These skilled men worked together like tireless oxen under the
unflinching eyes of the sweating, dirt-streaked Foundryman, the
traditional Task Master of their Trade, and could readily produce any
sort of cleverly carved and molded artifact, and an endless variety of
molten and engraved idols and gods of all sizes, shapes, and
descriptions. These were always sold or traded off at a handsome profit
for Master Rababull, although some were given as gifts instead. The

handiwork of the clever craftsmen went mostly, as did the wares of
Si'Wren and Nelatha, to the market place in the nearby city of Emperor
Euphrates, ruler over all the land.
Across the yard, the giant stood talking in a voice so deep that it was
like the continuous lowing of a great talking ox. His huge, ugly face
was like a terrible stone mask, and all men of ordinary stature were
utterly dwarfed by him, and so afraid of him that they stood frozen in
stark fear if he so much as but glanced in their direction momentarily.
"The gods of the giants are exceeding mighty!" breathed Si'Wren,
keeping her voice low so as not to be overheard. To this Nelatha made
no reply, but watched only, and kept her silence.
Because of the six-fingered giants, one could speak of another race. But
the way of ordinary men, throughout the known world, was; one kind,
one race, one speech, easily recognized and understood by all. This was
the way it had always been and it would scarce have occurred to any to
so much as question it.
Only two kinds of men might speak and not be understood; drunkards,
and the possessed, and though foul be the reproaches and slurred
speech of a drunkard, so much the worse be the abuses one risked in
knowingly dealing with some possessed madman!
Giants, Si'Wren was told, were all possessed.
The two frightened girls stayed hidden, watching motionlessly in the
spice tent as the giant stood like a temple god himself and conversed at
great length with the Foundryman. They could not hear clearly what
was said, but the giant gesticulated with his huge hands so much that it
was interesting to watch and try to figure out.
He wanted an idol made. This much was plain to see. Verily, for that,
he had come to the right place.
Si'Wren knew no Polynesians, Asians, Eurasians, or Mongolians. She
knew no Amerinds northern or southern, no Hispanics, Negroids, or

Pygmies. She knew no Caucasians, rain forest people, or Eskimos. She
knew no people other than her own kind, for there was but one race of
Man the world over.
Yet these unknown future races -with their diverse tongues yet to be
born out of history- were hidden in the bloodline of Si'Wren's one
world-wide race, one day to emerge, and then would come proud evil
speeches of 'the purity of the race' with exclusive regard to individual
strains, and a need to 'ethnic cleansing' and racial 'purges' of the 'mixed
breeds'.
The human race, of which Si'Wren was but a single leaf, one lone,
timid female, had spread abroad by a plethora of land bridges. There
were many shallow seas and easily crossed land bridges in this, the
world of Si'Wren, land which was but slightly above the level of the
seas, with broad exposed continental shelves, vast coastal plains, and
virgin, fertile land. Much territory was given over to swamp, tropical
jungle, and dense forest.
Thus there was but one people in the world, medium-color, and more or
less medium-dark of hair. To suggest that from the loins of a single
man and his wife would one day spring forth all future races in their
manifold colors and countless differences would have been a source of
great astonishment to Si'Wren, could she but have known. One might
as well harken unto the daffy old woman, L'acoci, and her crazy talk of
colors in the sky, as to speak of many differing colors among the skins
of men.
There was no other kind of human, except for the giants, and even these
spoke the same language as the rest of the human race, in spite of their
great difference in size. Even those with six fingers were not so
different as all that. Yet in spite of the fact that there was only one race
among men -which included the giants- there was hatred in almost
every heart, wickedness such as to compound every evil, and deliberate
mimicry of the savage wild beasts which roamed this wild primitive
world so overflowing with such indescribable natural beauty.
Si'Wren reached for the water skin, and fumbled