by Inmon, Shawn
Alex stopped and screamed, “Werda-ak!”
Everything in this section of the forest—underbrush, scrub trees, berry bushes—seemed to absorb the sound of his cry.
He filled his lungs and cupped his hands around his mouth to scream again, but Senta-eh laid a hand on his shoulder.
She threw her head back and the most amazing sound came out—something between a yodel and Tarzan yell.
Alex looked at her in amazement. How had he known her so long and not known she could make that sound?
Her yell, instead of being absorbed by the surrounding greenery, somehow soared above it, echoing around the forest.
She looked at Alex. “It is the call of my family.”
A moment later, she heard Werda-ak scream “Here! Over here!” from off to their right.
They ran in that direction and found a small clearing where the undergrowth had been trampled down. Alex didn’t have to wonder about what had trampled everything—there was a massive boar stamping and snorting in the middle of the clearing.
A wild boar is never a joke under any circumstance. This behemoth took danger to an entirely new level. The top of its curved back was at Alex’s eye level. It could make enough ham steaks and pork roasts to feed all of Winten-ah for a month.
“Up here,” Werda-ak stage-whispered from ten feet up a tree. “She’s got me treed.”
Werda-ak, who climbed like a monkey, was stuck in a precarious position, hanging onto a thin limb that bowed with his weight. There were no other obvious branches to jump to.
Monda-ak normally knew no fear, but slunk slightly behind Alex at the sight of the behemoth.
The story quickly became obvious. In one corner of the glade were three mewling, squealing piglets. Even as babies, they stood nearly three feet tall. Werda-ak had likely stumbled across this little den and the giant mother of all boars felt her piglets were in danger.
The massive swine hadn’t yet noticed the two new intruders. She backed up a few paces and ran, ramming her head into the tree and shaking it from top to bottom. Werda-ak slipped half off the branch but caught himself.
“What do I do? If she brings the tree down, I’m dead. She’s big, but she’s damn fast. She’ll trample me.”
Alex turned to Senta-eh. Nodding at a more secure tree behind them, he said, “Give me your bow and climb up that tree.”
She opened her mouth to object, but he hissed, “Now!”
Reluctantly, she handed over her bow and quiver of arrows and nimbly climbed the tree. Alex glanced around for a suitable tree for himself and spotted one just a few feet away. He clicked his tongue three times—a signal to Monda-ak to fade back into the woods and out of sight.
Standing perhaps fifty feet behind the giant sow as she backed up for another run at Werda-ak’s tree, Alex nocked an arrow. He pulled it back to his ear and released.
He was not the marksman that Senta-eh was, but the boar was impossible to miss.
The arrow flew and buried itself in her shoulder. Alex hadn’t thought the shot would be fatal, but he wanted to attract her attention.
Mission accomplished.
With a squeal, the boar whirled around, searching for this new irritant and possible threat to her brood. Her piggish eyes were nearly lost in surrounding folds of flesh, but they found Alex and she didn’t hesitate.
Alex felt the ground shake slightly as the weight of the hooves pounded into the forest floor. Alex was fast, but he had badly misjudged her incredible speed. Both he and the boar hit the base of the tree at the same moment. Before he knew what was happening, Alex found himself again flying through the air, this time bouncing off the massive curved back of the animal before hitting the ground.
Alex flew in one direction, Senta-eh’s bow and arrows the other. Alex rolled as he hit the ground, sprang to his feet, and immediately sprinted for another tree, the boar hot on his heels.
This time Alex won the footrace, if barely. He made a leap for a branch a few feet over his head. He caught it and swung himself up. The boar stood below, squealing at him in frustration.
Senta-eh swung lightly to the ground, picked up her bow and nocked an arrow. She looked the beast over and saw that the arrow Alex had shot had sunk into the upper shoulder. The arrow looked tiny and ineffective when scaled against the size of the animal.
With the pig’s attention now turned to Alex, Werda-ak dropped from his damaged tree and scrambled to another that looked more secure.
Senta-eh aimed and released. She had aimed for a spot just behind the pig’s ear, hoping to hit a nerve and disable it. Instead, she was a few inches off and the arrow hit the thickest part of the skull and bounced off.
The boar whirled once again, ready to take on all comers. Seemingly from out of nowhere, Monda-ak launched himself against the thing, mouth wide, ready to take her down.
Not unlike Senta-ah’s arrow to the skull, the dog bounced harmlessly off.
The three humans and their dog were hopelessly outclassed by this massive pile of bacon on the hoof.
Senta-ah turned to run back to her tree when a heavy hunting spear flew from the edge of the clearing, hitting the boar in the neck. Immediately, two more spears flew and buried themselves deeply in the animal.
The pig’s front legs went down, but she did not die. Instead, she used her back legs to continue to push herself toward the new attackers, snorting and squealing.
A tall warrior carrying a heavy ax stepped forward and brought it down on her skull. Finally, quiet settled in over the now-bloody glade.
Silently, Alex indicated to Werda-ak to climb higher into the tree and disappear among the upper branches.
To cover any noise the boy might make while climbing, Alex dropped noisily to the ground.
The man with the ax spun around raising it to shoulder height.
Alex raised his hand in greeting. In the universal language of Kragdon-ah, he said, “We are friends.”
The man turned to his companions, all of whom were magnificent physical specimens who would have fit in perfectly in Winten-ah. He spoke briefly in a language Alex did not recognize.
The man turned back to Alex. “Friends?” the man answered in the same language. “That’s good to know. Because we have been trailing someone who destroyed our bridge over the Kranda-ah. That bridge is the result of a lot of time and work. That bridge allowed us to cross the river and gather resources on the other side that are not available here. Anyone who destroyed that bridge is not our friend. Are you certain you are our friend?”
Alex knew he was hopelessly cornered and outnumbered, so he shut his mouth.
The warrior who had killed the mighty boar looked around the clearing. “Where is the other?”
“There are no others,” Alex said, hoping Werda-ak had successfully retreated into the upper reaches of the tree. “Only us.”
The man looked doubtful. He spoke to another man behind him in his own tongue.
Alex looked around the clearing. There were ten men all together.
Five of them stepped back into the heavier forest, no doubt looking for Werda-ak.
The warrior who was obviously in charge seemed calm, but Alex sensed there was violence beneath his serene exterior.
“I am Grunta-ak. Three of our guards saw someone destroy our bridge. They ran to intercept them, but our men were overpowered. The one who escaped ran back to the village to alert me. We were tracking you and almost ready to give up for the night and return to the village when we heard screaming. Was that you?” His eyes bore into Alex.
Alex took a deep breath and said, “Yes. I was yelling for my friend to come with her bow and help me deal with the boar.”
“That’s interesting. You fought with two of our guards, then ran away, but had to know we would be trailing you. Yet you screamed loudly, knowing we might hear and find you. Our guard said there were two men, a woman, and a dog. Do you want to tell me where the other man is, or shall we just continue to look for him?”
“He r
an away when we ran into this,” Alex said, kicking at the corpse of the pig.
By Grunta-ak’s expression, it was obvious he didn’t believe him, but he also didn’t seem to care that Alex was lying. Again, he spoke softly in his own language and two men stepped forward.
“My men are going to tie your hands behind you. You can struggle if you want, but we are going to tie your hands. It looks,” he said, indicating Alex’s forehead and face, “like you’ve already had enough struggle for one day. But, it’s up to you.”
Alex looked Grunta-ak steadily in the eye. “Like I said, we are friends, and mean you no harm. But if this is how you treat friends, you have us outnumbered and there isn’t anything we can do about it.”
Alex crossed his wrists behind his back and Senta-eh followed suit. In the language of Winten-ah, Alex said, “We’ll go along for now. I’ve escaped being held before and we can do it again.” Alex glanced at Grunta-ak to see if there was any light of comprehension or understanding of their language, but he saw none. Switching back to the universal language, Alex said, “No need to tie my dog up. He will do what I say.”
“He had better,” Grunta-ak said, pulling his spear out of the boar with a wet, squishing sound. “If he doesn’t he will end up like this karka-ta.”
Alex’s eyes hardened and he took one step toward the bigger man. “If you harm my dog in any way, it will be the last thing you hurt. I can promise you that.”
“You speak bravely for a little man with his hands tied behind him.”
“And you speak foolishly for someone who knows nothing about his opponent.” Alex’s eyes were caught by the orphaned piglets. “What are you going to do with them?”
“We will leave men behind to watch over them. There is no sense in killing them now when they are so small. We will take them back to Rinta-ah, feed them scraps for a few months and kill them when they get big and fat.”
They stood in silence for long minutes, waiting and taking the measure of each other. Eventually the men Grunta-ak sent away returned. Empty handed, of course, as the person they were looking for was above them.
“No matter. He will either come to us, or he will run home. Of course, that will be more difficult now that the only way to cross the river has been destroyed.”
They trekked through the thick forest for a quarter of a mile until they emerged out onto a broad, well-traveled path. They turned west and marched, with the two human captives and the dog surrounded by Grunta-ak and his men. Alex noted that aside from Grunta-ak, no one had spoken.
Good discipline. Well-trained. This village has an organized, military feel to it.
They walked for several miles and though Alex felt exhausted and beaten up, he did not show it. Whenever anyone watched him, he kept his eyes steadily on the back of the warrior in front of him. Every chance he got, though, he observed his captors.
Dusk fell and the road in front of them was hard to see. Ahead, a guard inside a small hut called out.
Grunta-ak answered, but Alex could not understand. When they got closer, Alex could see that there were two men on guard duty. Just in front of the hut, there was a small fire in a pit with a piece of meat spitted over it.
Pretty confident in themselves that some animal won’t smell what they’re cooking and make dinner out of them.
Alex and Senta-eh hadn’t had anything to eat since the skink the day before, and the meat sizzling above the fire smelled delicious. Alex put the thought away. There were many more important concerns than an empty stomach at the moment.
After Grunta-ak had conferenced with the two men for a moment, one of them turned and ran on the road up ahead.
No doubt spreading the good news about the capture of the destroyers of bridges. I wonder what the punishment is in their village for destroying something so valuable? A lifetime of hard labor? Death? I hope we won’t be here long enough to find out. Every hour we are stuck here, the kidnappers get farther away.
Grunta-ak moved his captives along, occasionally prodding them in the back with the butt end of his spear. They came around a bend in the path and a natural amphitheater spread out before them.
Nestled into the sloping hill was a village, with wood framed houses and larger buildings. The ground sloped gently upward for several hundred yards before ending at the base of a steep mountain. There were ridges that protruded from the mountain on both sides. There was only one direct and easy way to reach the village and even that was up a hill.
All the buildings had been sunk slightly back into excavations, leveling them. This gave the entire village an idyllic, well-planned look.
There were more guard huts along each of the ridges. The lookouts had excellent visibility in all directions.
I’m glad I didn’t have to plan an attack against this tribe. It would have been a long and bloody climb just to engage them in close combat, like Pickett’s charge up the hill at Gettysburg. He turned scenarios over in his mind, unable to stop the strategic part of his brain from working on the problem. Denta-ah’s trebuchets would have come in handy, though.
When they reached the village proper, Alex saw that there had been more excavation work done, as there was a large, level circle, perhaps fifty yards across that had been dug out.
How many man-hours does it take to dig a hillside away to that extent?
Grunta-ak led his captives to a small building with no windows and a single, solid-looking door.
“Inside, until I figure out what to do with you.”
“Who is your chieftain?” Alex asked. “I would like to speak to them.”
For the first time, Alex saw the smallest of dents in Grunta-ak’s confident air. The big man glanced at one of the warriors, then said, “I’m sure you would like a lot of things. I would like my mate to be beautiful, and hunting to be easy, but I am often disappointed. As will you be. Frisk them.”
Both Alex and Senta-eh had both abandoned their packs in the forest when they had gone to look for Werda-ak. Then, Grunta-ak had relieved them of their weapons after he had killed the pig. They had nothing else to give up. If they managed to escape, they would be starting with nothing.
Grunta-ak shoved Alex roughly inside the small building.
Even as he stumbled, Alex said, “No,” to Monda-ak to keep him from attacking. “Stay with me.”
Monda-ak eyed Grunta-ak carefully, as if filing him away for later retaliation, then padded inside, along with Senta-eh.
The door slammed behind them and they could hear the sound of a bolt being dropped into place.
They were imprisoned.
Chapter Eight
An Offer of Freedom
The room was sparsely furnished. There were four small cots shoved against a wall and a small table with a water jar and a burning candle on it. Oddly, for what seemed to be a jail or holding cell, there was a small door at the back of the single room.
Alex tried it and was surprised it opened easily. He pushed through and found a small grass yard—ten feet by ten feet—completely enclosed by a nine-foot wooden fence with each slat sharpened to a spike on top.
“I can make it over that,” Senta-eh said.
“So can I, but we’d still be in the middle of their village and there’s no way Monda-ak can make it up and over. He’s too big. Perhaps we could make it over and sneak around to the front and take him out the door, but it’s risky. Until we know what they want to do with us, I guess we wait.”
Senta-eh tapped her foot anxiously.
“I know, I know,” Alex said. “They are getting further ahead while we are trapped here, but we’ve got to be smart about this. With any luck, Werda-ak will follow us, find where we are, and get us out.”
Senta-eh looked at Alex reproachfully. “That is not much of a plan, waiting for a young boy to come rescue us.”
“He is a clever and able young man. And for now, I feel as though I have been drug through a knothole backwards. I’m going to sleep, while I can.”
“Sit,” Senta-eh co
mmanded, pointing at a cot. “Before you sleep, I need to see how bad your wounds are.” She moved the candle from the table and held it close to his face. She tore a small piece of fabric from the bottom of her shirt, wet it with water from the jar and sat down next to him. “Before I start, don’t be a magda,” she said with a small smile.
Alex wouldn’t have guessed he had it in him, but he managed a smile to match hers and presented his face for cleaning.
She started at the bottom and worked her way up, finding that the damage was only done to his nose and forehead. She cleaned the blood away from his chin and cheeks, avoided his nose, and dabbed gently at his forehead, which was raw and red, but no longer bleeding.
After several minutes, she sighed and said, “That’s the best I can do. I wish Niten-eh was here. She would fix you up.”
“I feel better already,” Alex lied, and collapsed back onto the cot, which was as uncomfortable as it was ugly. It didn’t matter. He was asleep instantly.
The next morning, Alex awoke with a groan. His injuries from the fall into the river had not been miraculously healed by a night’s sleep. He swung his feet onto the rough floorboards and blinked. There was a tiny sliver of light coming from under both doors, but otherwise the room was pitch black.
The room was silent, apart from Senta-eh’s breathing and the thumping of Monda-ak’s tail, happy to see Alex back in the land of the living.
Alex felt his way to the back door and pushed it open. Bright sunshine made him wince like a man with a hangover. Senta-eh snuffled and turned her back to the invading light, but Monda-ak hurried outside and relieved himself on the grass. Alex found a hole dug in one corner of the tiny yard and did the same.
“Ready to face the day,” he mumbled, attempting to convince himself.
“What?” Senta-eh said.
“Nothing. Just...nothing.”
The sound of the bolt being removed echoed through the room, then the main door swung open. It was an older woman, slightly hunched with age. She set a tray on the floor and backed out without speaking, once again slamming the bolt home.
