2014 Campbellian Anthology

by Various

  The Mayor recovered his presence. “I do not wish to fight you.”

  “Then we agree,” Ardam looked at the pale advisor, “but not all who are with you seem to feel the same.”

  Toumani turned and grabbed the stick from his advisor so quickly the two-leg didn’t have time to react. They exchanged a look that seemed to keep the pale one in his place. He turned back to Ardam.

  “We will not harm your Family.”

  “Then you will move?” Ardam asked.

  “We can’t do that either.”

  Ardam chuffed heavily through his throat pouch. “Then we have accomplished nothing, except to show our weapons.” He thought for a long moment, trying to figure out how to keep his options with the two-legs open. “When I return, it will still be in peace.”

  “In peace, you are always welcome, my friend.”

  Three days until the seedlings needed to be called forth. He would return in peace but not with wholly peaceful intent. If something did not change, the seedlings would have to wage their own war. How many of them would give up their lives to keep greater numbers on both sides from dying? Ardam hoped they had the strength to thrive. If he was wrong, this decision would condemn his Family to extinction.

  • • •

  It was not the full caucus; he wanted only Raychit and Kaliff for this meeting. The sun was dropping below the horizon through a belt of purple clouds and the morning’s events still churned in Ardam’s mind. They walked away from the Family and away from the two-leg town, to a grotto with a small stream overhung with trees. Life was strong here; it was one of Ardam’s favorite places.

  He rested on a boulder and waited for the others to settle. Ardam did not hesitate in getting to the point.

  “I believe there is a way to dislodge the two-legs, but some seedlings will be sacrificed. It will avoid a greater war.”

  “Why avoid war when we have the Nemek to fight for us?” Raychit asked. It was a strong question, but not utterly defiant.

  “Because we do not know the strength of their weapons or their people. What if they can defeat the Nemek and then destroy our Family? Then the seedlings will die anyway.” Ardam paused and blew out a short whistle. “And I gave my word to the Mayor that we would not attack first.”

  Raychit glared with three of her eyes. “You are too close to this Toumani Shaw. You trust him too much.”

  “Did I not answer your challenge? I took the children to meet him and they came back safe. He has acted honorably, has he not?” This meeting was not so much about counsel, as legacy and lessons. If his plan worked, he wanted Raychit to learn there was strength in peace, a lesson Kaliff already knew. And if it didn’t, he wanted them to know where he went wrong so they could avoid his mistakes in the future.

  Raychit huffed. “Yes, he has been honorable.”

  Kaliff added her voice. “He will make a valuable ally if you succeed.”

  Ardam turned his attention to Kaliff. “Your daughter is a sly one. She won Toumani’s favor easily.”

  Kaliff opened all four of her eyes wide in amusement. “It is her talent. I have succumbed to her wiliness many a time.”

  “I need to call upon the children again.” Ardam said. “They are our most powerful weapon, one the two-legs will not strike against.”

  He expected to hear grinding from Raychit’s throat, but didn’t. Her eight arms were crossed in front of her body, tense but patient. Maybe referring to the children as a weapon was what held her words.

  “I want to teach the children the song of the Birthing Ritual. In three nights I will take them to call the seedlings forth. I believe the seedlings will be able to undermine the construction of the two-legs’ town. We may lose some, but they will be born.”

  Raychit growled low, and curled her nose flange. “So, you are not being as blindly benevolent as it appeared.”

  “I would have preferred for the two-legs to have left of their own accord, but the seedlings are my supreme concern. This is my Family and I will ensure its survival.”

  “That is what I want to hear from my Paramount,” Raychit said.

  “You should never have questioned it.” Ardam let the lowest growl and quiet words carry his power. Raychit spread her arms, leaving her torso vulnerable. It was an old gesture and a respectful one.

  “Forgive my lapse. I thank you for renewing my faith in the Paramount, in you my friend. I have grown so accustomed to being your counter, that I lost sight of your wisdom.”

  Ardam appreciated the formality of her response. Even as friends, Ardam could not afford to let anyone forget that he was Paramount. By bringing her to this point with only one witness and not in front of the Family, Ardam was giving Raychit the respect due her post. He had received a worthy response.

  “Come, we have a song to teach.”

  • • •

  The night was warm and filled with the calls of animals and insects. Once again the children followed Ardam down the hillside, each carrying a green glowing branflee stick. For now, they sang a walking song. It was one of the children’s favorites on the long journey south. The clicking rhythms and tones were simple and fun to sing. It also served the purpose of alerting the two-legs to their approach.

  This time, Mayor Toumani Shaw came out to greet them with his own army of children. Theirs were of many different sizes, obviously born at different times. Ardam wondered if there was a structure to their breeding schedule. If there wasn’t, it might explain why they didn’t understand the importance of his Family’s seedlings being born at the right time.

  The town was modestly illuminated with a bluish-white light. There were no insects that gave off that color and Ardam wondered about the geothermal energy the Mayor spoke of. He looked again at the hard edge of the town and hoped the seedlings were stronger than the base it was built upon. Everything depended on that. It would be the next day before the two-legs realized what he and the children were doing tonight. The only way they would be able to stop it would be if they were willing to slaughter the seedlings as they grew toward being born. He did not think Toumani Shaw would allow that to happen. If Ardam was wrong, the Nemek still stood ready.

  He and the Mayor stepped forward at the same time, both extending their hands. The children from both Families spread out on either side of them. Ardam’s children stopped singing and extended their hands as well. The two-leg children seemed less certain of how to respond. The Mayor waved his free hand toward his children and they extended theirs. There were laughs and twitters and surprised huffs between the children. Physical contact was proving powerful for both Families.

  “Mayor Toumani Shaw, I come to you this third time with a Ritual of Friendship. We bring a song to share with your Family. It is an ancient song that has been with us since the beginning. It is all I have left to offer.”

  The children were mingling now, touching each other and communicating in that way that did not require language.

  “Ardam, it breaks my heart when you come offering us gifts and I cannot help you.”

  “It is because I believe in your heart that I am here.” Ardam let out a long whistle, the first note of the Birthing Ritual. His children stopped their play and started singing. He gestured with his smallest hand on each side and they moved forward, taking slow measured steps around their two-leg counterparts and into the town.

  From Ardam’s left there was a squealing sound and a flash of hot, red light flew by his head. The searing heat on his skin let Ardam know what kind of danger he was in. His hearts sped up with fear; he ducked and raised his hands in defense. Then he looked over to see the pale advisor pointing a small blaster at him from four body lengths distant. More than twenty townspeople stood behind him. They were not armed. Scared, the children’s song staggered into silence.

  The Mayor turned on his advisor and yelled. “Captain! Stand down immediately! I told you these people were not to be hurt.”

  “You’re a fool, Shaw! No one brings this much love and friendship, not w
ith an army like they have standing by. They’re up to something.”

  “And are you going to shoot a bunch of children?” Toumani asked.

  From up on the ridge the discordant battle cry of the Nemek roared out. Ardam straightened and whistled a triple tone in a complex rhythm, telling the Nemek to hold their positions. Even if he died here he did not want war, though he knew that’s what his death would mean.

  “There’s only one Cranther I need to take out. Then you’ll have to return our weapons and we can finish this. If you don’t turn them away, I will kill him.”

  Ardam whistled the first note of the Birthing Ritual again. Then he huffed three times, telling his children to be strong and not stop for anything. Their singing filled the air. When they moved forward, Ardam turned toward the pale one. Against every instinct, he opened all six of his arms and exposed his torso, hoping the gesture’s physical symbolism would mean something to the pale one.

  “Take my life if you must, but have you considered the lives of your own Family that you are about to sacrifice? My army is four-hundred strong. How many of you are willing to die for his actions?”

  Everyone was frozen, except for Ardam’s children who continued walking with their song. A flash of fear passed over the pale one’s face. Ardam braced himself. In moments of tension, it was not good for the one holding the weapon to be scared. Fear made enemies do rash things.

  At that moment, Mayor Toumani Shaw stepped between Ardam and the pale one.

  “Yes, Captain. Who are you willing to sacrifice?” Toumani asked in a deeper tone than Ardam had heard from him yet. He wondered exactly what the nuance of pitch meant to the two-legs. Toumani’s inner heart and outer demeanor were too conflicted for Ardam to read.

  “Stand aside, Shaw.”

  “I can’t do that, Captain. Lower your weapon.”

  The pale one sidestepped, trying to get Ardam back in his line of sight, but the Mayor kept himself between them.

  “Don’t you realize they have to be stopped?” The pale one shifted his aim toward Ardam’s children while they walked across the town. With a roar, Ardam charged past the Mayor, pushing through the two-leg children. He didn’t reach the pale one in time.

  Two flashes of red light shot out of the blaster. One of Ardam’s children squealed. Then more wailed in response. Before the pale one could swing the blaster around, Ardam crashed into him. He grabbed for the weapon with his four upper arms and used his lower ones to knock the pale one’s legs out from under him. The pale one held tight when he fell and Ardam ended up trampling him. Both were locked in their grip on the weapon but the pale one wheezed from Ardam’s weight on his chest. He thrashed, shifting the direction of the blaster, and fired.

  Searing pain erupted along Ardam’s left side. He bellowed long and loud. His grip on the blaster wavered and he realized that one of the arms he had been holding it with was not just hurt, but missing, as was the lowest one on that side. Jagged burn scars laced his torso, oozing white blood.

  Then the many hands of the townspeople were between them, trying to wrest the blaster away. They belonged to the two-legs that stood with the pale one. Ardam knew it was over. Amidst the chaos, he could hear his children singing in the background and the battle cry of the Nemek getting closer.

  The weapon was yanked from their hands. The pale one still wheezed beneath him. Before Ardam died he would see the pale one pay for harming his Family. He leaned down and punched him with his right lowest fist, and then he did it again and again. The pale one grunted and his face oozed their red blood.

  Hands were on Ardam now, pulling him away. Then a small two-leg child appeared and stood astride the pale one, directly in front of Ardam with his hands out in a defensive posture.

  “Stop,” the child screeched. He was equally pale and had the same green eyes, except his were dripping water. Ardam realized this was his son.

  He stopped, and stepped back off the pale one’s prone body. The child struck at him with his little hand. It didn’t hurt physically, but his fourth heart ached. He never wanted violence.

  From behind him, the Mayor called out. “Ardam!”

  Ardam turned to see the Nemek warriors at the base of the hillside, swarming the narrow plain. In one hand the Mayor pointed the small blaster at the horde in a futile effort to protect his people. In his other arm was the limp form of Kaliff’s daughter.

  If he let the Nemek attack, this would all be over very quickly. The seedlings would be saved but forever stained with the blood of the Mayor’s family. The offense had come from one; it would not be fair to punish the many.

  He took in the deepest breath he could and ruffled a commanding howl through every layer of his throat pouch. The effort flared the pain of his wound. The two-legs nearest him backed away. He repeated the command three times until the Nemek ceased their charge. The warriors staggered to a stop in the middle of the plain. They watched the town, milling uneasily in the moonlight, waiting for the next command.

  The Mayor lowered the blaster and his shoulders sagged. Then he walked toward Ardam. Kaliff’s daughter lay across his arm, a dark scorch mark scarring her back.

  “She’s still breathing,” Toumani said. “I’ve already sent for our doctor. I’m sorry, Ardam.”

  Ardam let out a loud, six-note whistle to call his Family’s healer forth. Then he held out his right arms to take the young female. She squirmed at the transfer. Her weight was more burdensome than he wanted to admit. Pain shot through his whole body.

  The Mayor looked now as if he hadn’t realized Ardam was injured. “My God. Please, tell me what I can do.”

  He didn’t know how to respond. Ardam could feel the heaviness in both their hearts. He glanced behind him. The townspeople were tending to the pale one who was still lying on his back. Ardam saw his own severed arms on the ground. He stared at his burned side where his arms had been. The reality of his mutilation sunk in and he was horrified. But he would bear it like a Paramount should, even if it was one of his last acts.

  When he looked toward the town he saw his children on the other end; they had continued on as they were told to do. The song for the Birthing Ritual ended and the children turned. He huffed loud enough to recall them.

  Ardam glared at his friend, Mayor Toumani Shaw. They were still united in this effort at peace, but there was blood between them now. With Kaliff’s daughter in his arms and pain shooting through his side, Ardam was not feeling generous. “Move your people, or I will.”

  Toumani’s eyes shied away from him and through the Barter, Ardam knew he was seeing grief and regret. The expression was all-encompassing and he couldn’t read whether it was for what had happened or what was to come.

  The two-leg doctor approached but he didn’t know how to help Kaliff’s daughter, had no idea if their medicines would help or hurt. The Family’s healer arrived shortly after. She wanted to tend Ardam first, but he refused and insisted she tend the little one. He had promised that the children would be safe, and he failed. Whether he would be alive come dawn remained to be seen. No sense wasting the healer’s efforts.

  Ardam’s children gathered around him. The Mayor stood with most of the townspeople behind him.

  “I will not let you harm our seedlings,” Ardam said.

  “Are we still friends?” the Mayor asked.

  Ardam stared out to where the Nemek stood, stalled in their attack. Then he looked back to the Mayor. “If we weren’t friends, I would not have stopped them. But I am an angry friend right now. And if I’m not alive come tomorrow, I doubt my successor will be as generous as I have been.”

  The Mayor frowned. Ardam turned and staggered toward the ridge. The children followed. He was going to have a slow, painful climb and he was not looking forward to what he had to face at the end of it.

  • • •

  The caucus stood in its circle with the Family surrounding them close behind. Moonlight was the only illumination. There would be no branflee sticks to separate them. Ard
am would face his Family.

  He told what happened in the town, emphasizing the bravery of the children. They were silent as he spoke, until he described the pale one shooting at the children. Then they howled and grunted outrage. Ardam was not proud that he had allowed the Mayor to protect him. If the pale one had not been deprived of a target he might not have attacked the children. He let them know this in a waffled sigh from his throat pouch.

  When he finished the story, there were murmurs and chitters of consternation. He could hear some that felt he should not have stopped the Nemek and others that said he should have killed the pale one. There was no consensus. This was why the Paramount needed to be certain in their actions. The only thing Ardam felt certain of now was his next act.

  He ran his fingers over the hilt of the stone knife in his hand. With all of his hearts prepared, he stepped in front of Kaliff.

  “Though it was Raychit that issued the Ferrago challenge it is your child who was injured because of my failure. I am truly sorry, my friend.” Ardam held out the blade. “I offer you First Right. My life is yours.”

  Ardam did not expect Kaliff to be the one to take his life. The healer had said that her daughter would recover and Kaliff was not one for rancor. It was simply not her way.

  Before Kaliff could respond, Raychit stepped over and took the knife. “It was my challenge. I claim the Right.”

  Huffs and ruffled exhalations emanated from the Family, nervous twitters too. This is what Ardam expected, but not that Raychit would be so eager. He turned and opened his four remaining arms. They locked eyes and all was still.

  Raychit spoke loud enough for all to hear. “You promised our children would be safe. In that you failed. And you stopped our warriors before retribution was achieved. We need our Paramount to be vigorous in his convictions.” She pressed the blade against Ardam’s gut where a deep thrust could pierce his two smallest hearts. At least his death would be quick.