An Alex Hawk Time Travel Adventure | Book 3 | Return from Kragdon-Ah

by Inmon, Shawn

  Instantly, Alex said, “That is better.” He shook his head, which had no meaning to Klipta-ak. “Let’s do it your way.”

  “If you will let me bring three more of my men up, we can finish this for you in just a few days.”

  Alex looked steadily at him. This man had been part of a group that killed his friends. And yet, Alex believed he had nothing to do with that. The kindness Alex had done in not killing him when he so easily could have seemed to be having an effect.

  “Why not use three of my men instead?”

  “Because your men are not builders. Look around at Winten-ah.” Klipta-ak said, waving his hand at the cliffside. “It is an excellent, easily defensible village. But it is caves. These men are not builders. Then think of the beautiful city you destroyed. Our defenses were not as good as we thought, but our buildings were strong. Only fire would have brought them down. Three of the men in the jail below were builders who worked for me. Again, why they were sent on this mission and taken away from the rebuilding of our city was only politics. It makes no sense.”

  “Fine, bring them up.” Alex leaned over the ledge and looked down into the enclosure, which was open to the sky. He raised his voice and called to the Winten-ah guards who stood outside. “Three men are about to come out and join us here. Let them pass.”

  Klipta-ak called the names of the three men and told them they were free to join them above. As he waited for them to climb up, he pointed to one of the logs about one third of the way up the cabin. “Do you see that log? It’s not much, but it has a slight bend in it. That will require more chinking and might let a cold wind through by the end of winter. If you want, you can send your warriors out with my men and they can find a better tree and we can replace it.”

  Klipta-ak looked at Alex, seeing how he was taking the criticism. When he didn’t seem offended, he said, “If you want, we can put all my men who are healthy to work. They would rather be working, cutting firewood, doing whatever is needed, than be sitting around all day. It isn’t natural.”

  While Alex contemplated that, Klipta-ak continued. “We have no reason to try and cause a disturbance. There is no reason why Draka-ak the Younger will say no. At least none that I can think of. But,” he added, waggling a finger, “he does not necessarily mean what he says. If it was me, I would not trust his word.”

  “You and your men can start work here. I will think on this and return.”

  Alex found Sekun-ak checking the food stores. Caring for the prisoners was putting a strain on their food supply. When he saw Alex, Sekun-ak said, “We are going to have to make some extra hunting trips. Our stores are running lower than I like.”

  “Good,” Alex said. “I am ready to hunt.” He paused, then said, “Klipta-ak is helping me build my home and has asked if his men can help with other jobs around the camp.”

  “That sounds like slavery.” Sekun-ak asked. “The Winten-ah will never enslave another tribe. It is wrong.”

  “I don’t think it is slavery if they volunteer for the work. Klipta-ak says they will be happier doing something useful, and he feels sure Draka-ak the Younger will agree to my terms.”

  “What do you know about him? Why should we trust him?”

  “Draka-ak? Klipta-ak says we shouldn’t trust him. So, you two are probably right. But, if we trust him, what are we losing? We aren’t killing these men. That’s all.” Alex glanced at Sekun-ak. “Now that you know them, do you want to kill them?”

  “No. It is easy to kill a stranger or kill someone in anger or on the battlefield. But hard to kill someone you have grown to know.” Sekun-ak inhaled deeply, then let his breath hiss between his teeth. “That’s what we’ll do then. If Draka-ak agrees, we will set them free and equip them enough that they have a chance to survive. Until we hear from him, let them work if they want to work, but no one is forced to do anything.”

  “Thank you, brother,” Alex said, and returned to his homesite, where Klipta-ak was already hard at work. He had undone part of what Alex had thought was finished and was kneeling alongside a wall, running a hand along the foundation.

  “Sekun-ak says your men can work if they want, but the Winten-ah do not use slaves. If they do not want to work, they can stay in the encampment.”

  “Thank you, Manta-ak. Those who are healthy enough will want to help. I will tell you what skills they have. You can decide what to do with them, but we have a talented cook who can help in the kitchen, a weapon maker, and quite a few who have a strong back and a weak mind.”

  “We can find work for all of them. For now, show me what you are changing.”

  WITHIN TWO WEEKS, ALEX, Senta-eh, and Monda-ak’s new home was complete. It was more than Alex had ever hoped for. Klipta-ak had not only completed the exterior of the home, but had also redesigned the interior and set up a pipe system that flowed water from the pool into the house.

  Alex Hawk had the first indoor running water in Winten-ah.

  WHEN THE HOME WAS COMPLETE, Klipta-ak set his best woodworkers and craftsmen to the task of building two beds, a long flat island for preparing food, and a table and four chairs.

  “If we had more time, I would have my man who is an excellent stone mason make you a stone floor, but I expect the traka-ta to be back any day.”

  Alex put his hand on Klipta-ak’s shoulder. “We will be fine sweeping the natural floor every day.” Alex looked around at the interior of the cabin. The roof beams reached up at the center, giving the small room a more spacious feel. The logs had been hand-hewn and chinked with a mixture of ash, dirt, and moss and felt exceptionally solid. “You have given us more than I ever hoped for.”

  “It’s only fair,” Klipta-ak added with a smile. “You gave all of us our lives. How many of us do you want to come with you to gather the message from Draka-ak the Younger?”

  “None. You stay here. I will take a few warriors with me and will return with the answer as soon as possible.”

  “We will make ourselves useful here while you are gone, then.”

  Alex chose a small contingency to retrieve the message, just himself, Harta-ak, Versa-eh, and Senta-eh. He figured that the three of them on horseback would be able to make the quickest time.

  As they rode, Versa-eh said, “This should be the end of your conflict with Lasta-ah.”

  “For now, at least, yes,” Alex answered.

  “If that’s the case, we are going to go back to our home. We have much to do there, and winter will be here soon.”

  “I’m sorry I kept you here so long. I don’t think I could have gotten through all this without you.”

  “And we would not be building our new home without you. That is how friendship works, right?”

  They managed to find the Lasta-ah traka-ta refuge, though they did get lost and were forced to backtrack a few times. Senta-eh even managed to not say, “Maybe we should have brought Klipta-ak with us,” which showed her self-control.

  When they rode into the clearing, they found it much as they had before. A game bird had been cleaned and was laid out next to the fire. The two Lasta-ah men were resting on the platform above. When they heard Alex and company arrive, they poked their heads over and managed a smile, which faded slightly when they saw there were no other Lasta-ah with them.

  Senta-eh leaned forward and whispered, “They might be afraid that we didn’t bring Klipta-ak with us because we have killed him.”

  Alex raised his hand in greeting and said, “Gunta. Klipta-ak is waiting for us back at Winten-ah. We will take you back with us when we go. Has the traka-ta from Lasta-ah returned?”

  “Yes,” the older of the two men said. “It came back yesterday.”

  “Have you read the message?”

  The man put his hand against his throat, the Kragdon-ah equivalent of shaking his head.

  Alex held his hand out and both men scampered down the ladder and handed him the note. Alex didn’t even bother to open it, just handed it up to Harta-ak.

  Harta-ak unrolled the small s
croll and his mouth fell open.

  Alex felt an uncomfortable tightening in his stomach. “What? What does it say?”

  Harta-ak cleared his throat and read the short message. “No. We will come for you. Kill those men if you haven’t already.”

  Alex was staring at the two Lasta-ah when Harta-ak read the message and at that moment he knew they had told him the truth—they hadn’t known what the parchment said. Both paled considerably and looked at each other as if considering their options.

  Senta-eh raised her bow, which was already strung. That convinced the two men that they had few options to consider. It was easy to see that, like Alex himself, they thought Draka-ta the Younger would have saved them, even if it were a lie.

  Alex cracked his neck to give himself a moment to think. Then he looked at the two scared men. “I don’t know what I am going to do with you and the rest of Klipta-ak’s men. But for now, I will take you both back to Winten-ah.”

  The ride home seemed twice as long as the ride out had been. This time, no one spoke, with the exception of a few quiet whispers between Versa-eh and Harta-ak. Alex’s head swam. He had given Draka-ak the Younger every opportunity to save his men because he had no desire to kill them. Now, he felt backed into a corner.

  When they turned off the forest path and crossed the field to Winten-ah, Alex saw Klipta-ak at the bottom of the cliffs. He was not only building a new style of chair, but he was showing two of the Winten-ah craftsmen how to do the same.

  When he saw the returning caravan with his two remaining men, he smiled broadly and raised a hand in greeting.

  “It’s not that the Winten-ah are bad craftsmen, it’s just that...” His words trailed off when Alex drew closer and he saw the expression on his face.

  Alex did not speak, but simply handed the parchment over.

  Klipta-ak took it, unrolled it, and after just a few seconds, his chin fell onto his chest. He glanced in the direction of the enclosure, where his men were resting after recovering from their wounds. Then his eyes moved to the two men with Alex. There was pain in his eyes. He let the parchment fall to the ground.

  “All he had to do to save us was lie. He wouldn’t even do that.” Klipta-ak straightened his back, looked up at Alex, and said, “I will prepare my men. Some are out gathering firewood and two others are out setting snares. They will be back before dark. I will keep the men in the enclosure until you are ready.”

  Alex didn’t stop him as he gathered his men and brought them back to their prison. He felt the shift between them. There had been a growing, unlikely friendship between them over the previous month. Now they were firmly on opposite sides again.

  The four of them dismounted and turned their horses over to be stabled.

  Sekun-ak approached and said, “Bad news?”

  “He told us to just kill them.”

  Sekun-ak did not react. “Anything else would have shown weakness. I thought this is what he would do.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Would it have made a difference?”

  Alex considered. “No,” he admitted. “I forget that you have knowledge of hundreds of generations of Kragdon-ah, and I have only seen seven summer solstices.”

  “What do you want to do with them?”

  “I do not want to kill them.”

  “That does not answer the question. We did not conquer all of Lasta-ah in this battle. If we had, we would make them Winten-ah. But it was only a battle. Our traditions and theirs say we should kill them, so they won’t come back to try and kill us.”

  Versa-eh stepped forward and said, “I might have a solution.”

  AN HOUR LATER, SEKUN-ak, Alex, Harta-ak, and Versa-eh approached the prisoner’s enclosure. The guards moved aside and let them pass through.

  Inside, they found Klipta-ak and his men, dressed as best as they could muster. Those who had mostly recovered from their wounds stood with the healthy. The more grievously wounded tried to at least sit up and swing their legs over the raised pallets.

  Klipta-ak likewise tried to put a brave face on. He smiled and said, “It’s that time, then?”

  Alex put an arm on his shoulder and said, “I have something that I think anyone in your position would want. A choice.”

  Klipta-ak’s head snapped up. “That sounds like a lifeline.”

  “Perhaps,” Alex agreed. He nodded toward Versa-eh. “You owe it to her.”

  “Then I am thankful to you,” Klipta-ak said. “What is the choice?”

  “Harta-ak, who was once a citizen of Lasta-ah, is making a new home. They have access to an asset that should make that new home profitable. However, there are only two of them. They have allies in the closest village, but that will not help them build what they need.”

  The light dawned in Klipta-ak’s eyes, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “So, if you are willing to commit to glinta, and then swear your allegiance to this new home with them, we will allow you to live.”

  Glinta is the universal Kragdon-ah word for disavowing your membership in a tribe or city.

  “This seems an easy choice, but sometimes things like political loyalties run stupidly deep. Would you let me speak with my men?”

  The Winten-ah, Harta-ak, and Versa-eh left the enclosure. They had walked a dozen steps when Klipta-ak’s voice rang out, “We accept. What is our new tribe called?”

  Versa-eh had to laugh at that. “We don’t even have a name yet, but we will create one.”

  “The name doesn’t matter,” Klipta-ak said. “We pledge our allegiance and our loyalty to you.”

  “Then you will be free men and partners with us.”

  Alex felt a twinge of regret at losing the best builders he had met in this world, but felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders, knowing that he would not need to kill the men he had come to think of as friends.

  Chapter Nineteen

  From the Skies

  It took Versa-eh, Harta-ak and the remainder of their new village a few days to leave Winten-ah and return to the natural bowl where they were going to build their new home.

  Versa-eh and Sekun-ak negotiated over getting a few new horses to go with the two they had arrived with. Much like the scenario Alex had witnessed years before, where Sekun-ak and the trader had bartered over a dog, they yelled, appeared angry, then happily settled in the middle.

  In the end, Sekun-ak agreed to trade two horses for a lifetime supply of danta. That was kind of him, because Harta-ak had already pledged that very thing to Winten-ah. Still, it was a graceful way for Sekun-ak to give a thank you gift to them for all they had done.

  Over the following days, Klipta-ak and his men built several carts that were very similar in style to those Alex had seen in Lasta-ah. They used the two new horses and carts to carry the men who had broken legs or hips from the battle of Prata-ah.

  Alex hated to see Harta-ak and Versa-eh go. They had not only helped him on so many occasions, but they were like family to him. Still, they were not so far away that he and Senta-eh couldn’t visit them from time to time.

  Alex stood at the lower level of the caves and waved as the caravan moved toward what they had decided to call Danta-ah. Versa-eh’s mind was always working, and she had decided that naming their village after the valuable commodity they controlled would help spread the word.

  When they disappeared onto the forest path, Alex, Senta-eh, and Monda-ak retired to their perfect little cabin. It was late in the summer and the days were growing shorter. Alex looked forward to the rainy season, then the snows of winter. He knew they would be happy and snug in their home.

  Alex even did something he had never done since he had arrived in Kragdon-ah.

  He took a nap.

  His rest and leisure did not last, though. Having so many extra mouths to feed had put their feed stores low going into winter. While there was still plenty of game about, the hunting team went out every third day.

  Also, Reggie had watched carefully what Klipta-ak had d
one in building Alex’s new home, peppering him with questions. He approached Sekun-ak and asked permission to build a smaller version for himself. Not on the bottom of the cliffside, as that would have been presumptuous, but on the ground at the side of the cliffs.

  Reggie was loved wherever he went, and Winten-ah was no exception. He had a faithful audience who gathered around him every time he got his lute-like instrument out and played and sang. It was Tinka-eh who sealed the deal, though.

  She was an explorer who was always on the move, laughing and twinkling her eyes and lifting up her arms to everyone she toddled by. Her chubby cheeks were pinched a dozen times a day and it made her laugh—a high-pitched giggle that made Alex think of Preta-eh, the chieftain of Tonton-ah.

  Because childbirth had become even more dangerous, more and more couples were avoiding pregnancy. That was untenable over the long term, but no one wanted to purposefully take the risk. It was not that every woman who became pregnant died in childbirth, but the ratio had moved from one in thirty to one in ten. Very few couples wanted to take a ten percent chance of dying.

  With fewer babies and toddlers in the cliffside, each one got more attention. And Tinka-eh was an exceptionally charming baby.

  Sekun-ak was afraid he would have a mutiny on his hands if he declined Reggie’s request, but he liked Reggie, too.

  There was no work crew to do the work this time, but Alex and Reggie were often able to recruit a helper or two on their daily forays into the forest to cut logs. Each time they passed the small clearing where his original team had been kidnapped, Alex thought he should make some sort of memorial to honor their memory.

  Reggie really just needed room for two small beds and a small table in his tiny house, so it only took six days to chop the trees down and haul them back to the cliffside.

  On the final load of that sixth day, Alex unhooked the horse that hauled the log and took it back to the stables. He returned to find Reggie struggling to move the log to the spot where they would delimb and hew it in the morning. Alex helped him move the log, then stood and stretched, looking up into the late afternoon sun.