“We attacked while the rafts launched.”
That’s right. When the enemy thought they had trapped the People between the trees and the water, easy prey waiting to be picked off, the People’s warriors pounced, securing precious time to push the rafts filled with females and children onto the water.
Almost to himself, Nightshade motioned, “I’ve never seen Pan-do so brave.”
Eyes locked on the distant figure of Pan-do, smiling as he sat amongst a small group, Nightshade motioned, “His warriors sliced through the enemy, never showing fear.”
Xhosa had seen Pan-do’s bravery before, when the two had been captured by cannibals. Outnumbered by Others intent on serving the People up as their next meal, Pan-do figured out how to save their lives without a single death—theirs or the cannibals.
Nightshade continued, “Just as it seemed they would be cut down, Hawk and Water Buffalo and Talon attacked, forcing the enemy to defend a different direction. Hawk killed many before he and his two warriors fled for the rafts.”
Xhosa had seen only glimpses of the battle, too busy pushing people onto rafts, ordering the frightened paddlers to brave the rough water though none had ever done that. Seeker, Zvi’s skinny energetic child-friend on a quest for the stars, had built rafts for himself, Zvi, and Spirit, and then for everyone. Few of the People could swim but they trusted Seeker’s memories of how his People had sailed rafts.
For many, death still came, the evidence stark, the remains of every raft Seeker built scattered along the shoreline. They were now stranded in this unfamiliar land with nameless dangers.
It doesn’t matter, she thought silently. We are good at migrating.
Xhosa jerked back to reality. Where’s Spirit?
The loyal wolf considered the People his pack. He had proven his worth in hunting, providing security, and simply being a good friend. According to Seeker, he stayed with them by choice. An image of the animal flitted across her memory, sprinting to his pack leader Seeker, powerful body bludgeoning a path through the enemy, every one of them shocked at his presence.
A gory image replaced the wolf. “Shadow, Siri—they’re dead?”
Nightshade looked down at his feet. “When Shadow’s child stumbled, a warrior grabbed her. Spirit flew out of nowhere and attacked the warrior, allowing the child to flee with Siri but Shadow didn’t make it. ”
Xhosa breathed out. Siri was the Primary Female. Her importance to the People couldn’t be overstated. Shadow, though, could be replaced.
Her shoulders tightened at another image of the wolf, his furry body streaking forward, paws churning the water into whitecaps, eyes locked onto Seeker, finally so deep into Endless Pond he had to paddle with his legs.
“What happened to Spirit?”
“He couldn’t get back to the rafts. The attackers—they almost killed him.”
She frowned. “I remember Mammoth trumpeting.”
Nightshade nodded, the rare hint of a smile creasing his face. “That was another of Pan-do’s tricks but it saved Spirit. His Mammoth’s bray sounded so like a large herd just beyond the trees, thundering toward the shoreline, that the enemy fled for their lives.”
Pan-do is clever.
Nightshade grimaced. “But the rafts merely put us in the sights of a new enemy—the storm. The rain and wind grew worse and quickly. The rafts foundered in the rough water. Many of the People managed to hang onto logs long enough to crash into the shore, but many more died.”
He opened and closed his hands showing how many hadn’t made it.
A stillness descended as Nightshade’s gaze fixed on her, eyes soft. Seeing her Lead Warrior like this, vulnerable and raw, shook something inside of her. Nothing frightened him.
She breathed deeply which hurt her chest. Shallow gulps seemed to work better but rolling onto her hands and knees made her head swim and she threw up, freezing, her head hanging like a winded wolf.
Finally the wave of pain subsided and Xhosa asked, “Hawk?”
Nightshade looked around, hands fidgeting, and then fixed his gaze on hers. “He died saving you and others. When the storm destroyed the rafts, he dragged many to shore, to safety, but the last time he went out, he did not return. I tried to find him but couldn’t.”
Her vision dimmed and Nightshade fell silent, watching her, his breathing slow. An odd sweet scent seeped from his skin. His hand touched her shoulder for a moment before withdrawing. Finally, her sight brightened enough to see the damp grass beneath her, a trail of ants chasing food, a worm burrowing into the hard earth. She crawled over to a boulder and pushed herself upright. Everything blurred for a minute and then came back into focus. She inhaled again, slowly, and felt steadier.
How could Hawk die? They had plans. Hawk was so like her. Xhosa pushed away those thoughts, of how her life would change. Later was soon enough to deal with them.
“His People—do they know?”
The Hawk People, a sprawling proud group as big as hers filled with powerful warriors, talented hunters, and hard-working females, would be devastated. He had led most of them their entire lives, protected them from attacks by invaders, ensured they always had food, and resolved the squabbles inherent to any group. He found them a homebase filled with secure caves, close to water and herds, and within a day’s journey of the hard stones required for tools.
Nightshade nodded. “I talked with Water Buffalo and Dust,” Hawk’s Lead Warrior and Lead Hunter. “They are shaken. I don’t know that either can lead.”
That worried Xhosa. Her People were closely-intertwined with Hawk’s. Pairmates had been selected across the groups. If the Hawk People became weak, it would impact her People.
When her father died in battle, both Xhosa and Nightshade had stood up, ready to accept the responsibilities of Leader. Because there were two, they engaged in a series of contests. If Nightshade had won, he would now lead and she would be content to follow. But he hadn’t.
The Hawk People must have a similar test. Mentally running through the Leaders in Hawk’s group, none stood out as capable of taking over. In her many discussions with Hawk about melding the two groups, they had never talked about his replacement. Neither considered the possibility he wouldn’t be there.
As though he read her mind, Nightshade motioned, “They don’t select a new Leader as we do, with contests that determine the fitness, strength, and ingenuity appropriate to a Leader. As soon as possible after the passing of a Leader, at a gathering of the entire group, a warrior will claim leadership. In this case, the likely one will be Water Buffalo as he is Hawk’s Lead Warrior. If more than one stands up to be Leader, the two fight. The winner of that battle is accepted as the new Leader.
“At any time, he can be challenged by another. Hawk never was, not the entire time he led.”
Xhosa shrugged. This was not her business. Her People were. As her father died, he made her promise to care for the People, always put them ahead of everything. She’d worry when the Hawk People got a new Leader.
Nightshade hunkered at Xhosa’s side, and watched her work through these possibilities, smiled when her mouth set in a tight line, eyes narrowed as understanding dawned.
He motioned, “There is nothing to worry about. I will challenge Water Buffalo for leadership. And win.”
“An outsider can do that?”
He dismissed her concern. “Why not? Hawk’s warriors respect me. They will follow my lead. I will blend our two People into the group Hawk envisioned, mighty enough to defeat any challenger be they the enemy we just faced, Big Heads, cannibals, or another.”
He paused, giving her time to work through this.
Yes, Nightshade will win because he fights not just to dominate but to subjugate. The viciousness of the contest will prevent future challenges.
She could smell the intensity rising from Nightshade. His muscles already tightened in preparation for battle and his gaze darkened. This was the Nightshade that intimidated all who dared enter the People’s land. Only the
overwhelming number of Big Heads drove her People away.
And, the stone-tipped spear that flew like a bird.
She could stop Nightshade but wouldn’t.
“When you win, you lead the Hawk People as an equal to Pan-do and myself but you must continue as my Lead Warrior until you feel Snake can take over. I need you, now more than ever.”
Darkness shrouded his face, hiding thoughts usually obvious to her. Finally, he motioned, “If that is your wish.”
The corner of his eye twitched, and then his ear as he worked through why he must remain her Lead Warrior. There were good reasons. Pan-do’s warning about Nightshade, Moons ago, was not forgotten. Instead of talking to Nightshade and risking his anger at Pan-do, Xhosa had watched her Lead Warrior and identified the same cruelty and vengeance that so worried Pan-do. As Leader of the Hawk People, Nightshade would be supreme but as her Lead Warrior, he must respond to her orders.
Challenging for Leader of the Hawk People would be cleaner but she wouldn’t. If physical strength had been the entire basis for the People’s three challenges, Nightshade would be Leader. Her Father in his wisdom wanted a Leader who excelled with not only his body but wits, strategy, and perseverance. Nightshade was a brilliant warrior but Xhosa was cunning.
And what if she and Nightshade were the only contenders to lead the Hawk People? No one ever beat her Lead Warrior one on one. Failing in front of the People was too great a risk.
Another worry was whether Pan-do would accept Nightshade as an equal. If he decided to leave, her most powerful supporters left with him and the influence of Nightshade’s warriors grew.
Sun cast a luminescent glow over the shore, a warm feeling out of sync with her mood or recent events.
Nightshade stepped closer. “If we pairmated, it would unite our leadership over the combined People, a potent message to all that we cannot be defeated.”
There was no denying the truth in that. In fact, it was exactly what drove her to become Hawk’s pairmate.
She looked at her embattled People. Some watched her, clearly hoping their Leader could solve the disaster that had befallen them. To the side, separate from the litter of broken bodies, shredded logs, and tangled twine, was Seeker, twirling, arms stretched over his head, grinning from one ear to the other. Nothing stopped him. He told her once that the machinations of the group had no effect on his actions. I will follow the stars until I find them.
Close to him were Zvi and Pan-do’s young daughter Lyta, both working contentedly on new neck sacks. Resting, one flank pressed against Zvi’s huge leg, head between muddy paws with his nose pointed toward Seeker, ears twitching toward one sound or another, was Spirit. His rear leg, where the enemy’s spear had punctured, was covered in a wet leaf. Honey oozed out between tooth-shaped holes where he’d gnawed the wrapping. Someone—probably Lyta—had bandaged him while Xhosa was passed out. None of this small strange group seemed upset by the unplanned nature of their new camp. Spirit raised his head and looked at her, head cocked, eyebrows bunched, tail slowly moving side to side as though asking if she needed him. She smiled and he settled back to a watchful sleep.
Toward the water’s edge crouched Pan-do, ministering to an elder, smiling, hands soft, face alert. How did he always rise to the needs of those around him?
Without looking at Nightshade, Xhosa motioned, “Have you and Pan-do made amends?”
Nightshade shrugged. “That is of no consequence to our plans. He will stay or go, as fits the needs of his People.”
Xhosa gestured, her hands strong and decisive, “Your battle with the Hawk warriors decides who leads the Hawk People. Then, you and I will work with Pan-do. When we find a new home, you and I will pairmate, to solidify the new homebase.”
His eyes jerked to her but hid his surprise—and pleasure—with a dip of his head as though in agreement.
The world spun and bile rose in her throat. This was no time to show weakness. Xhosa sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain to her leg and then her chest, hoping Nightshade missed the stench of her panic. She knotted her waist-length hair behind her neck, so different from the kinky shortness of everyone else’s hair.
“Do what you must but you must work with the Hawk males. I will see to the wounds.”
Even from here, the aroma of her People’s fatigue and worry enveloped her, thick like the animal skins they wore to block the cold.
Preview of Born in a Treacherous Time
Book 1 in the Dawn of Humanity Trilogy
Chapter One
The scene replayed in Lucy’s mind, an endless loop haunting her days and nights. The clear sun-soaked field, the dying Mammoth, the hunters waiting hungrily for its last breath before scavenging the meat, tendons, internal organs, fat, and anything else consumable—food that would nourish the Group for a long time.
But something went horribly wrong. Krp blamed Lucy and soon, so too did Feq.
Why did Ghael stand up? He had to know it would mean his death.
Lucy wanted to escape, go where no one knew what she’d done, but Feq would starve without her. He didn’t know how to hunt, couldn’t even tolerate the sight of blood. For him, she stayed, hunting, scavenging, and outwitting predators, exhausting herself in a hopeless effort to feed the remaining Group members. But one after another, they fell to Snarling-dog, Panther, Long-tooth Cat, Megantereon, and a litany of other predators. When the strangers arrived, Feq let them take her.
By this time, Lucy felt numb, as much from the death of her Group as the loss of Garv. Garv, her forever pairmate, was as much a part of her as the lush forests, Sun’s warmth, and Snarling-dog’s guidance. Now, with all the other deaths, she could leave his memory behind.
Forests gave way to bushlands. The prickly stalks scratched her skin right through the thick fur that layered her arms and legs. The glare of Sun, stark and white without the jungle to soften it, blinded her. One step forward became another and another, into a timeless void where nothing mattered but the swish of feet, the hot breeze on her face, and her own musty scent.
Neither male—not the one who called himself Raza nor the one called Baad—had spoken to her since leaving. They didn’t tell her their destination and she didn’t ask, not that she could decipher their intricate hand gestures and odd body movements. She studied them as they talked to each other, slowly piecing together what the twist of a hand and the twitch of a head meant. She would understand it all by the time they reached wherever they headed.
It was clear they expected her to follow. No one traveled this wild land alone but her reasons for joining them, submissively, had nothing to do with fear. Wherever the strangers took her would be better than where she’d been.
Lucy usually loved running through the mosaic of grass and forest that bled one into another. Today, instead of joy, she felt worry for her future and relief that her past was past. She effortlessly matched Raza’s tread, running in his steps at his pace. Baad did the same but not without a struggle. His sweat, an equal mix of old and stale from the long trip to find her and fresh from trying to keep up, blossomed into a ripe bouquet that wafted over her. She found comfort in knowing this strong, tough male traveled with her.
Vulture cawed overhead, eagerly anticipating a meal. From the size of his flock, the scavenge must be an adult Okapi or Giraffe. Even after the predator who claimed the kill—Lucy guessed it to be Megantereon or Snarling-dog—took what it needed, there would be plenty left. She often hunted with Vulture. It might find carrion first but she could drive it away by brandishing a branch and howling. While it circled overhead, awaiting a return to his meal, she grabbed what she wanted and escaped.
Feq must smell the blood but he had never been brave enough to chase Vulture away. He would wait until the raptor finished, as well as Snarling-dog and whoever else showed up at the banquet, and then take what remained which wouldn’t be enough to live on.
Sun descended toward the horizon as they entered a dense thicket. They stuck to a narrow lightly-used
animal trail bordered by heavy-trunked trees. Cousin Chimp scuffled as he brachiated through the understory, no doubt upset by the intruders. Only once, when a brightly-colored snake slithered across her path, did Lucy hesitate. The vibrant colors always meant deadly venom and she didn’t carry the right herbs to counter the poison. Baad grumbled when her thud reverberated out of sync with Raza’s, and Cousin Chimp cried a warning.
Finally, they broke free of the shadows and flew through waist-high grass, past trees laden with fruit, and around the termite mound where Cousin Chimp would gorge on white grubs—if Cheetah wasn’t sleeping on top of it.
I haven’t been back here since that day…
She flicked her eyes to the spot where her life had changed. Everything looked so calm, painted in vibrant colors scented with a heady mix of grass, water, and carrion. A family of Hipparion raised their heads but found nothing menacing so turned back to their banquet of new buds.
As though nothing happened…
Lucy sprinted. Her vision blurred and her head throbbed as she raced flat out, desperate to outdistance the memories. Her legs churned, arms pumped, and her feet sprang off the hard earth. Each step propelled her farther away. Her breathing heaved in rhythm with her steps. The sack around her neck smacked comfortingly against her body. Her sweat left a potent scent trail any predator could follow but Lucy didn’t care.
“Lucy!”
Someone far behind shouted her call sign but she only slowed when the thump in her chest outstripped her ability to breathe. She fell forward, arms outstretched, and gasped the damp air into her tortured lungs. Steps thumped louder, approaching, but she kept her eyes closed. A hand yanked her head back, forcing her to look up.
Despite the strangeness of Raza’s language, this she did understand: Never do that again.
Feq followed until Lucy had reached the edge of her—Feq’s—territory. Here, he must let her go. Without Feq, the Group’s few children and remaining female would die. She threw a last look at her brother’s forlorn face, drawn and tired, shoulders slumped, eyes tight with resolution. Lucy dipped her head and turned from her beleaguered past.
Survival of the Fittest Page 28
