"Welcome to my swarm, Qaqambi of the Yegolide. I know nothing of your customs, so forgive any impoliteness."
He waved his trunk in a way not dissimilar to a dismissive wave. "And I know nothing of yours. Let us learn and work together." The chieftain leaned forward, his dark eyes searching my own. "Tell me, how are your askari?"
"I don't know what an askari is."
"And how do you keep off the flies and parasites? Are they not consuming your flesh?" His incredulous tone told me that surely I had an askari. Before I could again state my own lack of understanding, the small red bird on his shoulder flitted to my own, where it cocked its head and pecked inquisitively at the base of my right frill. It hurt, and I fought to keep my frustration down. After two pecks on the right, it then hopped over to the top of my head, where its sharp beak struck down half a dozen more times, from the bottom of my frills and crest to the other side, and then on the outside of my left frill. Then, the askari (I assumed) flew back to Qaqambi, whose head ponderously cocked to the side.
"May your beds be firm, your meals full, and your skin unblemished." He said with a ritualistic formality and I attempted to memorize the words while he began querying in a more puzzled tone, "You have no parasites, even in your softest flesh." He stated, a sense of wonder about him when he said as much.
"I'm glad that I don't.' I replied, curious and confused.
"I apologize." The chieftain said, his ears flapping out agitatedly. "You do not know of my people, as you said, and I have neglected to explain to you. From a young age, every one of the indlovu finds and matches themselves to an askari. The askari pick clean the tiny creatures that search to eat our skin and burrow into our flesh. They are lifelong companions, the askari and the indlovu, though we indlovu outlive our partners by a century or two, so their descendants care for us, while we protect and feed them. An indlovu scorned by his askari is unclean and unwanted. I apologize again, for considering you filthy when you are capable of cleaning yourself. May I ask, in the spirit of our exchange, how it is that your people remain free from filth?"
My tail flicked in frustration and confusion in equal amounts. Why would this matter to anyone? "I can demonstrate a bath, I suppose. There is the correct type of sand nearby."
"Please!" the massive indlovu declared as he rose to his feet. Surprising me, he left the maul behind as I walked towards the nearest sand pit. Every one of his steps was twice as long as mine, and Qaqambi retained a slow pace alongside me. "Sybil!" I called, and she immediately understood what I was asking for. At the sand bath, I stepped in and slowly shifted my weight back and forth until I was about waist deep. With the current politicking, I refused to luxuriate in the pleasantly hot sands and instead focused on the rite of washing. While I typically would use my magic to exfoliate and indulge, I instead allowed for Sybil to scrub my back, shoulders, and hips before standing and flaring my scales all over my body to let the sands fall freely from my body.
"That is a bath. Usually, we spend more time to scrub our whole bodies, but I don't want to take more of your time than necessary to show as much."
Qaqambi's trunk nodded up and down as he contemplated what I'd just done. "That is wise. There are no sands deep enough safe for us indlovu to enter, and our hands and bodies are not well suited for these sand baths. Even so, I desire to be blessed by your cleansing." Then, the chieftain, twice my size and at least eight times as heavy, stepped into the sand. He rather quickly sunk up to his knee, where this particular sand pit seemed to bottom out. He looked at me expectantly, then at the sand, then back at me.
"Of course. Your askari cleaned me. Let me return the favor."
He trumpeted his approval, and I stepped into the sands and gathered two handfuls of sand and rubbed it along his thigh. His skin, though tough and calloused, was flexible and hung in wrinkles. The sands caught in the folds, and I had to scrub five or six times as much as I would have for a keelish. After maybe a minute of scrubbing, Qaqambi turned and ponderously pulled one of his legs out of the sand. It was an obvious struggle for him to raise a leg so high, and I felt my somewhat neutral evaluation of the chieftain rise. With so much willingness to adhere to his customs to show his respect for me… Perhaps we could engage in a meeting as equals.
"May your beds be firm, your meals full, and… your skin clean."
"Unblemished." The chieftain gently corrected, though I could tell I'd still somehow done something wrong. He didn't comment on it though, instead continuing, "Thank you. You are truly saharliard, and are willing to engage with me as an equal, a friend. Let us converse, my friend. How can I help you?"
His response was so different from the Moonchildren, the nearest thing to an ally we'd found, I almost didn't know how to respond. "We're looking for Old Nievtra. Nievtala has taught us that its ruins can be found in the far east. We follow that vision."
"Your goddess has told you well." Qaqambi's trunk nodded sagely. "I have never been so far from my tribe's lands, but I have spoken with those who have. I know that your ancestors' lands lay there, long ago."
"I… thank you for the confirmation."
"Of course, my saharliard! For that are friends!" His voice boomed over me, his tone growing ever more excited and friendly. "I also see that you have brought your own herds, so that you will not slaughter our wildlife. Do you need guidance to the best river to follow on your journey?"
"The herds smell them out pretty well." I hedged, off-put by his magnanimity and wondering if I needed to say anything about how we'd been hunting from the creatures that lived here.
"That they do! The livestock and wildlife offer wisdom that we only aspire to acquire hahaha! You are a wonderful leader!"
"Chieftain Qaqambi," I forced myself to ask and interrupt his praise of me, "What should we do if our herds are too reduced in number to feed ourselves from?"
All joviality drained from the indlovu, and his people that had begun to relax their stances all around us once again found their hands on their mauls. "The bounty of our land does not belong to the tribes of the Republic of the indlovu. We are the stewards and protectors of the land and its inhabitants, large and small. The occasional hunt is good, but with so many of you needing so much fresh meat… It would be better that you eat that which belongs to you, not that which is free and necessary to the continued survival of this land. I know your herds come from this savannah. You should impact the balance of this land no more, or I can no longer consider you my friend."
"Then, where does the stewardship of the Yegolide end?" I asked, unwilling to completely drop the topic. To my surprise, every indlovu in the area began to laugh uproariously at my question.
"AH! A wise saharliard! You think like one of us! You are wonderful indeed!" The rolling peals of laughter filled the space between keelish and indlovu, though none of the keelish joined in. "Three days' travel to the East." Qaqambi chuckled as his trunk wiped a tear from his eye. "There, the lands of the Linqata begin, and you may bathe with Chieftain Allatsu to speak with him of the state of his plains." The giant of a chieftain continued chuckling to himself for another minute or so, before he grabbed his maul and smoothly used it as a cane to rise to his feet.
"I have counseled, and I have shared my askari, let me break bread with you." Then, with no indication I could see or hear, one of the oxfiends approached and mooed at him. Then, with a swift movement, Qaqambi grabbed the horns on each side of its head, wrenched it to the side, and broke the 2,000 pound beast's neck with apparent ease. Before any of the keelish could react, he raised the entire oxfiend's corpse over his head and trumpeted with joy.
"Thank you for your hospitality! My people bring drink that we may truly celebrate in our friendship!"